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cinnamongirlxsr1
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"𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱," 𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝘂𝗿𝗺𝘂𝗿𝗲𝗱, 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵, 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗱. "𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗜'𝗺 𝗳𝗮𝗿 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂."
𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗹𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝗺𝗲.
𝗜𝘁 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁.
𝗜 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗿, 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘂𝗽 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝘀𝘁, 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗻.
"𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀," 𝗜 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗱, 𝗹𝗶𝗽𝘀 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝘇𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗲𝗮𝗿.
"𝗕𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗜 𝗱𝗼. 𝗜 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗥𝗮𝗳𝗲-𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜'𝗺 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗜 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁.
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