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... definitely knew something, but she wasn’t saying a damn thing. The worst part was that I couldn’t do anything about it. She just appeared and disappeared whenever she wanted, like she was the one pulling the strings... eh, I guess she was pulling the strings, though.
The dashboard lit up again.
Unknown number.
Curious, I answered.
"Who is this?" I said. "It’s midnight."
"Evan fucking Marlowe," a woman snapped. "You bastard."
"Who are you?"
...
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