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Last Hope: Blood Harvest
They Don't Love You Like I Love You

They Don't Love You Like I Love You

Epigraph Four

"I woke up there, white sheets and bandages on my wrist. At the edge I sat, counting fingers. Pain, it has to end. She took my aching hands. Mom, I want to live. I don’t remember saying that, just her soft voice…"

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Va’an Marthell

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