“It all went wrong,” she says. I’m about to speak, but the bride isn’t finished. She draws herself into a hunch, grabbing both arms, wrapping herself in an embrace despite the scorching weather. Her next words leave me cold. “She started it.”
“It all went wrong,” she says. I’m about to speak, but the bride isn’t finished. She draws herself into a hunch, grabbing both arms, wrapping herself in an embrace despite the scorching weather. Her next words leave me cold. “She started it.”
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