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“Forget them, Meda. Forget her.” He reaches up and puts his hand on the side of my face, tugging it toward him. “I like you as you are. Good, evil, whatever. All I care about is that you’re alive. Please, Meda.” — Eliza Crewe
Forget them, Meda. Forget her.” He reaches up and puts his hand on the side of my face, tugging it toward him. “I like you as you are. Good, evil, whatever. All I care about is that you’re alive. Please, Meda.