Clara Kensie

Something contracts in my chest. The air shifts, grows heavy and dense as mud. Alexa twists her hair around her finger and whispers, “Didn’t you even try to escape, Charlotte?

Something contracts in my chest. The air shifts, grows heavy and dense as mud. Alexa twists her hair around her finger and whispers, “Didn’t you even try to escape, Charlotte?

– Clara Kensie –

Aftermath

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