res started
terri
King, the o
ruel, c
Lakeside High" novels, the ones whe
was there,
ssive, as I was dra
ere was a hint of sat
ction of ju
drenched in sweat
ide me. "Ava? You
ned. The voice of the lovi
the calculat
rficial
for me, and
are," I manage
ething – annoyance? Or was i
tely," he said, his tone shifting subt
if his journal wasn't a
lied, turning
eel his e
d: "I must remain vigilant. The old A
t worried
rried abo
ved me to be, lurkin
panion now, a cold dread th
s tr
t on lies, with a man
/0/82712/coverbig.jpg?v=e4d23de2c6eb8bca0270dc7a2a664ca7&imageMogr2/format/webp)