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Chapter 40 - Forty: The Letter
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Chapter 42 - Forty-Two: Playful Thing
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... ried on my reply to Oliver when the terrace doors burst open with a violence that sent the candle flame guttering.
I spun in my chair, pen still poised like a weapon, as Casimir stepped over the threshold.
He was a mess. His overcoat was rumpled, his hair disheveled by the wind, and his breathing was jagged. The moonlight carved sharp, predatory angles across his face, turning his eyes into something feral.
He hadn’t bothered with the door, hadn’t bothered with the stairs ...
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