Crave the Quiet

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Chapter 72 Global Signal

Eli POV

The rooftop tasted like milk and panic and the sweet, wet death of the old world. I sat cross-legged on the shattered glass railing, small bare feet swinging above the screaming crowd, black sclera drinking in every detail. Mommy—Papa Jaz—still leaked in heavy, addictive arcs, his torn nippl...

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