No Ghosts Down The Aisle

Madame Aurelle herself had gone still as sculpture, the espresso cup in her hand frozen mid-air, her expression unreadable… but sharp.

“Let me guess,” she murmured coolly, “this is the Liam we don’t mention.”

Celia didn’t even wait for confirmation. “He shouldn’t be here.”

Annabelle added, “Especial...

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