The Shadow Beneath the Magnolia
Daisy's face was a mask of perfect composure, the kind that took years of society training to achieve and seconds to fracture. Her eyes were fixed on something beyond Tommy's left shoulder, somewhere in the space between his betrayal and her own desperate need to pretend it hadn't happened. "Dutch," she said, and the use of a name she had not used since before he disappeared was its own kind of...
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