“What are our options?” Milo asked, keeping his voice low and even, knowing the edge he walked was made of thin ice. If he wasn’t careful, Xander might just take his arm off for him. Xander sat cross-legged in the grass, and they steepled their fingers, unconcerned that they had to drag Milo’s arm across the ground to do it. “I kill you, call in my backup, and spin a story about how your death was unavoidable. They’ll bring the witch who enchanted the cuffs and undo it so I can break myself out.” “You don’t seem keen on that plan,” Milo observed. He wasn’t stupid enough to assume it was
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