Vaugh

. But it was a hollow gesture, a performance for the sake of appearances. He asked me where

e word tasting like as

imaginary riches. We walked past boutiques with names I couldn't pronounce, glittering jewels, and imported cars. We used to press our faces ag

is jaw tighten, his gaze lingering on a woman with dark, flowing hair, startlingly similar to Diana's. Hi

a familiar pain, one I'd grown accustomed to. It

shining with an unspoiled love. It was us, once. It was a mirror reflecting a life I'd lost, a love that had corroded. A

ce barely a whisper. The pretense w

en, quickly, relief. "Of course, Callie. Whatever you w

ut ripped through the air. "Mr. Bryce! Di

s eyes, just moments ago distant, were now wide with pure terror. "Po

ndition is critical!" the guard s

t it costs, or what it takes!" Bryce roared, his voice

ry specific ingredient. A direct blood transfusion from an individual with a un

h a desperate hope, locked onto mine. A chilli

do you have that blood type?" The question hung i