three

The clue’s crushed in my fist as I run, grinning like a lunatic, high on nerves and whatever the hell he’s up to. Should’ve known he’d plan something. The man can barely let me brush my teeth without plotting a whole primal scene around it.

The trees crowd close—big pines and old oaks with bark flaking in chunks and just the right amount of gnarled roots to trip me up if I’m not careful.

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