Warm My Bed, Little Pumpkin!
Orlanda crossed her arms, a small flame of resolve flickering in her tired eyes.
“I will be ready.”
They locked eyes, two unlikely allies bound by the single, dangerous promise that tomorrow would end differently than today.
Queen extended her hand, palm open. Orlanda hesitated, then clasped it. Their grip was firm, the silent sealing of a pact neither of them could afford to break.
Outside the door, the house moaned under its own secrets, but inside that tiny hidden room, two women had just chosen war.
***
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