“…Marc?” Evelyn managed to ask.
“What’s left of me,” Marc managed to say, while his lips cracked from the strain.
“You need a bit of… fresh air, mon cher,” Evelyn said after regaining a modicum of her composure.
“That ran out one-hundred-and-fifty-three-years ago.”#AmEditing pic.twitter.com/ak5FhVIyXU— Evelyn Chartres (@EvelynChartres) December 23, 2020
Disclaimer: This excerpt is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
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