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“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. Harper?” “Aw, God, what’d I hit?” I asked, groaning while shifting to sit up. The place spun a little. The cold tiles bit into the seams of my jeans. “The shopping cart,” Cash replied, humor edging his voice. “Shit… Feels like a truck, only it hit me.” “Anything hurt?” Cash bent down into my line of vision. “My hands.” I turned them over to find them grazed, “and ass. I fell on it.” “Can you bash yourself up any more?” — Shaye Evans
Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. Harper?”
“Aw, God, what’d I hit?” I asked, groaning while shifting to sit up. The place spun a little. The cold tiles bit into the seams of my jeans.
“The shopping cart,” Cash replied, humor edging his voice.
“Shit… Feels like a truck, only it hit me.”
“Anything hurt?” Cash bent down into my line of vision.
“My hands.” I turned them over to find them grazed, “and ass. I fell on it.”
“Can you bash yourself up any more?