Why are you always blaming yourself? I— She paused, feeling that she was being accused of something. Charlotte suddenly felt annoyed. Pierre stood beside him, blood-tinted tears rimming his eyes. A mixture of panic and longing pushed up under her breastbone.
So delicate, too strong to drink fast—both repellent and addictive. You are changing, Charlotte, and they are more afraid of it than you, he said. She pushed her hair out of her eyes, looked up, and received another disorienting shock. I wish I didn't.
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