The nightmares started after Jenn drowned. A waterlogged hand stretched through the dark, one familiar chipped-polish fingertip caressed my lips. Her valley-girl vocal fry, that I once thought sexy, filled the room.
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The nightmares started after Jenn drowned. A waterlogged hand stretched through the dark, one familiar chipped-polish fingertip caressed my lips. Her valley-girl vocal fry, that I once thought sexy, filled the room.
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