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  • Dear Rose,
  • These are the list of things I wanted to tell you, things I couldn't find the courage to mouth off while you rest...
  • One, it's that you're beautiful—very—and I'm longing to talk to you. Two, we will be your home. Mom insisted on having you stay with us despite the town council's offer of helping you. I can't blame her, she had been through some tough times during her teenage years. Three, we will never be siblings; this is something I outrightly asked my mom, to not adopt you. It's selfish, but...
  • “Ugh!” Theo groaned, threw the pen he was holding then crumpled the paper. He harshly breathed, brushing his hand through his hair. He has been trying to write for her, yet he always ended up throwing the paper away.
  • He grabbed his keys then went out of his room. Emma was having lunch with their parents. The house smelled of steak and chocolate cookies, their mom must have been baking again. Despite the inviting smell, Theo didn't feel like eating. They all stopped talking when they saw him, he felt their eyes following him as he walked out of the house. Driving his old C70 Volvo, he revved up. He didn't know where he was going, he just drove to think.
  • It has been almost a month since the perilous incident at The Craig's. Chris and Flor were now behind bars, while waiting for a trial that everyone knew none of The Craig's will win. Everything seemed too bad to be true for Theo whenever he was being reminded of what happened that night. Turns out Chris called Flor at work, he cited the same excuses about rose: rebellious. Not missing a detail, he mentioned about having been visited by the police, accusing them of being terrible, abusive parents. Flor was there all along when the shootout happened, she waited for the right time to attack.
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