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Don Jorje’s lips pressed together then knocked his cane on the floor. The sound resonated and it made her more nervous.

“Tomasino, I think we should talk.”

CALLEA blew her clasped hands. The sun was blistering hot on the outside but inside the mansion’s living room it was freezing as if winter crept on the whole room. She felt like her blood turned into icicles. Don Jorje and her grandfather