MIRANDA I turned and instead of extending my arm to find empty, cool cotton sheets against my palm, I felt something warm, soft, and yet hard with ridges and bumps. My head felt heavy and my eyelids heavier but I forced them to peal open. I could remember most of last night. Quinn and I came to the Astor house to have dinner and drinks and I may have had too much to drink and over-extended my invite to the entire night. My vision was blurry when I opened my eyes, a bright light leaking through a sliver of space between the thick black curtains. I eventually focused on the man that resembled an angel sleeping beside me. The light hung around him as if it were a majestic halo, leaving only his silhouette in view. It was difficult to imagine this man planning and orchestrating so many murders. He was a serial killer, a mass murderer, but at this moment he looked as if he couldn't harm a fly. He slept on hi
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