Erica Rowland

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Later, when Pierce and I were hiding in his studio with tea, I asked, “What did you tell them about Cousin Archibald’s screams?” Pierce—busying himself with putting away a backdrop he loathes—paused and looked over his shoulder at me. “I told them you had a parrot. And that with any luck, it would soon die.”
Erica Rowland
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The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 6
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