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CHAPTER 132

Alma, the supposed fucking journalist, is more like an assassin than a person who used to write news articles for a living. I'm not really all that surprised because before getting pregnant, Thomas was training me too.

The bunker looks like a small apartment, and I follow Phoebe with my eyes, who walks over to the fridge in the small kitchenette.

"Are we preparing for a world war or something?" She mumbles as she scours the cabinets, too.

The fridge and cabinets are fully stocked.

There's another door, and Alma picks T.J. up. "Hey, would you a big boy for mommy and watch some cartoons in the bedroom through there?"

I follow behind her, and she opens the door to a bedroom that has six beds in it. This place is prepared!

She kisses T.J. and puts headphones over his ears with a tablet that she gets from one of the cabinets.

"What the hell is this place?" I ask her as soon as she closes the door.

"It's a safe house. There are five more over the city." She goes to sit behind a tiny
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