My head throbs as Donovan and I approach the hospital room of Lucretia Macevil. The jumbo bottle of aspirin in my purse won’t be enough. Given whom we are about to see I should’ve brought Valium—or elephant tranquilizers.
Bags hang under my eyes that look like they are filled with dollar store rejects while Donovan appears well rested. He must be all too used to late nights, or maybe he’s better at the makeup thing than I am.




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