Brycee

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Remember when you were a child and they would yell at you for poking the fire? Told you that you’d piss the bed if you kept doing it, or worse, it would hurt you. Then you grew up in fear of the crackling heat, knowing if you touched it, there would be repercussions. I am that fire. The flame. The blaze. Unpredictable in ways you could never imagine.
The Lies We Steal (The Hollow Boys, #1)
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