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Chapter Eight

I woke to squeals and screaming and the bed bouncing under me. My eyelids whipped open as I scrambled to orient myself in the overly soft mattress. Oliver frantically climbed over me, preferring to fall onto the floor rather than take a second to untangle himself from the igloo of blankets he’d made. It was late afternoon, judging by the way the dim light bled through the curtains hanging haphazardly over the windows. His continued screeching brought me into the present as the last of the fog of sleep lifted from my senses.

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Chapter Seven

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