PREVIEW
... floor. No one spoke. Nala placed the photo at the edge of the table, face-up, like a silent threat watching over us.
Minne served dinner without a word, her movements careful, her eyes downcast.
I stared at the photo as the plate was set in front of me, my jaw tightening until it hurt.
Fucking whore.
This wasn’t just intimidation anymore.
This was war.
As Minne set my plate down in front of me, my phone buzzed against the table. The sound felt too ...
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