I looked down at the paper, still touching the tip of my shoe.
I reached for it, flipping the page over to look. Scrawls of ink outlined a drawing of a girl lying on a bench. A sick feeling started to twist in my stomach, like motion sickness. And then the girl in the drawing turned her head, and her inky eyes glared straight into mine.
I reached for it, flipping the page over to look. Scrawls of ink outlined a drawing of a girl lying on a bench. A sick feeling started to twist in my stomach, like motion sickness. And then the girl in the drawing turned her head, and her inky eyes glared straight into mine.
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