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FORTY-TWO | OF CASTLES AND KINGS

I stared at the tyre tracks carved into the ground. There were two sets – proof of my encounter with Cyrus – yet the entire event felt utterly fabricated. 

Despite his strange behaviour, I felt waves of calm wash over me. If meeting Cyrus had been the beginning of the end of my relationship with Harper, then today’s kiss had been the cement that sealed our joined fates. I was no longer dancing in a grey area; I had stepped out into the sunlight, no matter how shadowed and dappled the greener grass may be.

I stumbled back to my car, leaning heavily on the bonnet. My neck ached, and in the silence of my abrupt loneliness, I realised how bizarre my afternoon had been. With the blood pounding against my temples, I slithered into the driver’s seat. In my haste I’d left the door open, and as my strength left me I was grateful for my earlier hurriedness.

I wilted against the seat, closing my e

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