THINK OF HOME

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If her past indicated anything, the man was already doomed.

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She was right at home, you could say. To keep playing this game until she frosted over.

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You don't know what happened, really. You made them leave. Genevieve seemed happy enough to comply.

But playing your own game doesn't feel nearly as sweet, nor make the Wood any more belonging.

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You can only wonder what it feels like to be sixteen.