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sandals.
Then her phone.
I folded each piece over my arm slowly.
Caleb gripped the edge of the pool.
“Marissa.”
I did not answer.
“Don’t be dramatic.”
There it was again.
The script.
The label.
The warning.
My fingers tightened around the wet fabric until it pressed cold against my skin.
Then I saw the red emergency button beside the kitchen entrance.
The security continue reading …
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