Alejandra Pylypchuk Shvora

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Your joints grated, and your vision spun in sickening lurches, but you rose, because she was a saint and you were nothing, because no one had ever needed you before.
Alejandra Pylypchuk Shvora
to love everyone that needs you. you don't love them, you love being to use.
The Six Deaths of the Saint (Into Shadow, #3)
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