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... fore I tried to escape.
Look, I’m not proud of it. Well, actually, I’m a little proud of it. Forty-five minutes of sitting in a demon’s penthouse, processing the fact that I was apparently married to said demon, before attempting a jailbreak? That’s pretty good impulse control, all things considered.
The coffee helped. I’m not going to lie, it was the best coffee I’d ever had. Perfectly brewed, rich and smooth, exactly the right temperature, which somehow made everything worse be ...
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