Can we cue up a slow clap for the rum concoction? Because, well done on the mindfuckery. Well fucking done. Boss-level mindfuckery. Bringing a parent to an island in the middle of the ocean, changing his personality completely, and then attaching him to the girl—two years my senior—who used to torture me all throughout volleyball practice. Not just attaching, but marrying him. Ha. Oh, good one. This is really freaking good. “Why are you slow clapping?” Cora asks me. I look down at my hands—they’re moving without my knowledge. I shake my head. “Can’t tell you, but I do think I’m having some
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