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10.

DALIA'S POV

For some reason, the pizza tasted so good this afternoon. I munched down all six slices, and had a big size Coke to wash it down. After I was done eating, I got up, finally ready to clean the apartment. I started by wiping down the kitchen surfaces with a damp cloth, and offloading the dishwasher. I stacked the plates, and pans in their respective shelves, and stored the cutlery and cups back in the drawers. Soon, I moved into the living room. I stared at just how untidy it was. The floor was littered with all sorts of things, from empty Doritos packaging, to plastic hair rollers, shoes, and of course, the dress from last night, which now reeked of vomit.

I braced myself, holding my breath before walking over to where the dress lay. It wasn’t until I picked it up from the ground that I saw the bottle of wine that had tipped over and emptied on the floor, soaking the dress as well.

"Just fucking great." I hissed. Emily would not be happy about this. She had refused to even
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