Chapter 7
Mildred
She is perfection itself. Kind, compassionate, and earnestly intent on knowing me. If this is some twisted game, I find myself ever more eager to become entangled in its rules, even at the uncertainty of the pain it may bring upon me.
I watch her slumber under her quilt, my faint blue aura casting a soft, gentle light across the room. I float toward her without a sound, my hand hovering before her cheek. When I press it lightly against her skin, Grace shivers beneath me. I pull back swiftly, frowning at my own audacity.
Right person, terribly wrong time.
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