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Summary
She doesn’t quite know what to do with the way that Alice is looking at her. Like she’s something sacred, something inescapable, one of the old gods that slumber in the centre of the earth—Alice’s eyes are their own kind of hunger, the ache of an empty belly, the dark comfort of dreaming and the soft light of coming awake.
“Your life is your own, Narcissa,” she says.
And oh, how badly Narcissa wishes that were true.
8/24/23
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