The Man Who Owned Her
The Man Who Owned Her Sunny woke up in a motel off I-94 with a headache that felt like someone was driving a nail into her temple. The room smelled like cigarettes and old carpet and whatever the previous guest had left behind in the shower. She counted the cracks in the ceiling. One, two, three, four. The number did not matter. She remembered bits. A bar. A man with a truck. A bag of something...
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