“You have a murder board,” Saint says, putting away the scrapbook and coming closer.
I take a deep breath and put my hands on my hips. “I know it’s fucked up—”
Saint shushes me, pressing his index finger to my lips and watching me with such glee, I’m instantly heating up under my clothes. “No, it’s human. The society we live in tells us we shouldn’t want retribution, but that’s not natural, is it?”
— Dec 19, 2024 12:05PM
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