Helene Svendsen

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“It starts as a slight unease—nothing special, a little discomfort, but it quickly transforms into a restlessness that’s hard to control,” I say. “Then, I become distracted. Edgy. I can’t concentrate. My brain constructs different scenarios, each worse than the last, and it’s all I can think about. I can’t block it out.”
Stolen Touches (Perfectly Imperfect, #5)
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