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... fingers on the steering wheel, glancing at the woman next to me for what had to be the tenth time in five minutes. She was curled up in the passenger seat, sniffling quietly, her face still blotchy from the tears I apparently interrupted in the parking lot. Her curly light brown hair was a mess, and she looked like a stiff breeze could blow her away.

Why in the world did I pick her up?

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freёwebnovel.com.

I shot a glare at the road ahead, annoy ...

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