MY FOOTBALL ALPHA
’ I tell Finn.
With a surge of determination, I crushed the steel lock in my grip. The drawer creaked open, and inside lay a single book.
I picked it, as I turned the pages. My breath hitched in my throat and my eyes burned with anger at what I found.
It was sketches—of Emily. Page after page, after page, her face filled the papers, accompanied by what appeared to be her white wolf with a mark of the moon goddess on her forehead.
What kind of obsession was this?
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