Shadows and First Blood
The next day was better than I wanted it to be.
Moira made me tea strong enough to wake the dead. Finn spent an hour convincing a grad student that her dissertation would be stronger if she stopped citing men who hated women. I shelved, dusted, learned where the cat preferred to nap (on top of Greek tragedies, appropriately). I found three books tucked in the back: a horror novel with a cover torn clean off, a psychology text full of annotations that read like confessions, and a slim volume of ghost stories. I brought them home with the excuse of “inventory check,” but really, I just wanted them near me. “You’re nesting,” Travis teased as I stacked them on the table. “Careful, Princess, you’
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