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“You’re right,” Milo said, tears rushing back to choke his words. “I don’t believe you.”
“Nah. You’ll forget me by dawn.”
He hugged my arm tighter. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Talk like you don’t matter. You do matter. To me.”
He hugged my arm tighter. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Talk like you don’t matter. You do matter. To me.”
Out of one prison, on to the next.
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