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Chapter 225

[Cordelia]

Whatever it was that my mother gave me last night, it was strong enough that even after three cups of coffee I am still not fully awake. Moving through life as if dragging my body through a fog of molasses, my body fights me every step of the way as I struggle to get dressed.

Opening my carry-on bag, I remember the emeralds I packed last minute. Pulling them out, I find something nice to wear that will look good with green.

Maybe if I wear the emeralds, it will appease whoever it is who feels they need to interfere with my heart by reminding me of the one I still love. It is one thing to send me presents. It is quite another to go out of your way to make me think I am going insane. 

Because that is what is happening. Either I am being haunted and ghosts are real, or I am imagining things. I'm not sure which reality scares me more. 

Pulling the antique comb from its box for the first time in over 5 months, I arrange it prominent

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