Janet (iamltr)

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“Okay. Let’s clean up. Your poor friend is probably hungry.” “‘Poor friend,’” Trinket repeated, muttering darkly to himself. “You’re the one who invited him over,” said Zee, pulling back. A voice shouted from the hall: “I don’t hear any more barking. You two finished?” “I’m kicking him out,” said Trinket.
The Final Stroke (A Fresh Taste of Ink #6-7)
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