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Chapter 73: _ Bea’s a Bitch
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Chapter 75: _ They Took Him
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... , I mean, protein bars, the worst coffee known to man, a can of fruit cocktail that might’ve expired during the Nixon administration. I watch them eat like it’s a funeral.
The atmosphere is so quiet, solemn, and a little gross.
Pretty Boy stumbles out last, shirtless, with wild hair, and eyes squinty like he’s wandered into the wrong dream.
Bea perks up like a meerkat spotting a steak.
"Morning," he says, voice all sleepy rock and confusion. "Why does it smell lik ...
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