Élodie Lavictoire

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“All the cinnamon roll joints in all the world, and you had to walk into mine,” I say. He laughs. “By design, actually,” he says. “What do you mean?” “I figured if I was ever gonna meet you again, run into you, and start a conversation like two normal people, I knew my best bet was a place with good cinnamon rolls.”
Maybe in Another Life
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