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Chapter 115 | The Chicken Salad Accord
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... th those calculating eyes.
morning sleepyhead
Aurora. Right. The orange-haired menace who’d somehow gotten herself classified as an ally after approximately forty minutes of conversation on a cliff. I stared at the message for a moment, then typed back.
good morning. how’d your squad do?
like us upperclassmen have to do those petty cute little tests lol
The dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. My phone buzzed with new messages.
we cleared ou ...
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