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Chapter 8 Breakfast

  • BRAYDEN
  • Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
  • No. Not yet.
  • I groan as I roll over and turn off my phone’s alarm on the nightstand. However, my hand stops in midair right afterwards and my eyes pop wide open.
  • I slowly scan my outstretched arm.
  • What happened last night? How did I get into bed? Wasn’t I sitting and eating a meal?
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