~?~
I want her to know. I need her to know. Maybe then she'll truly appreciate me.
Time is running out, though. I know the police are looking into Call Me Rumpelstiltskin more thoroughly now. Prodding and poking, fruitlessly trying to figure out who I am. Maybe I should give them a clue, too? Let them know they're on the right track.
Oh, I don't want them to discover Mishka. Not yet, not until she has a chance to figure it out on her own.
Besides, I have a new target now. Quinn might've backed off, but I have to be sure; I don't need them fucking this all up when I'm so, so close to getting what I want.
YOU ARE READING
Call Me Rumpel
Teen Fiction"There's something I need to tell you," I say, my mouth instantly going dry. "About Call Me Rumpelstiltskin." Seventeen-year-old Mishka Winscott knows all there is to disguises. On the outside, she lives the perfect fairy tale life. No one knows abo...
