𝙄 '𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚

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𝙊𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧 13, 2019















































































































𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢

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𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢. 𝙴𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚓𝚊𝚠, 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚎.

𝙸 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚣𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜.

𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜. 𝙷𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜.












































𝙰 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚢...













































































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