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Fifty Eight

My head hurts.

My eyelids are heavy and my entire body aches.

Slowly, I peel my eyes open, groaning when a ray of sunlight attacks my eyelids.

Shit. Why’s it so bright?

I push the comforter off my body as I fling my legs off the bed. I rub my eyelids with both palms as I glance around the familiar bedroom.

“God, why the fuck does my head hurt?” I mutter to myself. And why the hell does my voice sound so hoarse?

My head is foggy and memories of last night are a blur. I remember going to a club with Camilla and her bridesmaids. I remember having a chat with Aimee for being a complete bitch like always and stepping outside for air only to get a call.

Shit. That call really did happen, huh? I thought it was a bad dream. I thought I was going to wake up this morning and everything will be fine. But, no. She really did call me. I may not have let her finish her sentence, but her tone and the greeting had an underlying message to it. They’ve found me and my perfectly crafted wal
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