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Spoiler(cliquez pour révéler)Cette fois, je laissai Boaz regarder. Plutôt mourir que de lui cacher la moindre parcelle de douleur qu'il m'avait infligé pour son propre compte. Oubliée ma fierté. Qu'il regarde. Qu'il vive avec ça. Qu'il s'endorme ce soir et rêve de mon visage taché, de mes larmes, de ma détresse.

Le T-shirt que j'appelais l'Ancienne Grier se déchira, et je me fendis moi aussi en deux.

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So far I had an undead parakeet, a dybbuk-possessed bestie, and a ghost child living under my roof. The roof belonging to a sentient house. And Linus lived next door. Those things I could handle. But adding three watchmen into the mix? Even if they kept me from relying on sentinels?

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As the tension in me uncoiled, I realized this was what I had wanted to hear. Proof that black and white were myths. That only shades of gray existed. That good people did bad things, accepted malignant stains on their souls, when all other choices were stripped from them.

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While I watched, he slid another mask into place, this one shades of the quiet academic I had come to know from my nightly lessons mixed with the rigidity of Scion Lawson. He was approachable, though you might think twice before you worked up the nerve. The flatness of his full lips implied you better have a darn good reason for talking to him, and an even better excuse for believing your time was worth a second of his.

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A suffocating weight pressed on me every time she explained how much losing me had cost her, and her brother. When I was feeling uncharitable, I asked myself if they realized how much losing the old Grier had cost me. But mostly I was just lonely for the simplicities of that life.

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Anger simmered in me, even when I laughed, even when I smiled, and one day it would devour me from the inside.

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“Oh, I’m sure they were the most expensive clothes you could have delivered on short notice. Just another way to stick it to me. Don’t worry, I get it. But here’s the thing. The money you spent? It’s mine. It’s not yours. I’m not Linus. I won’t allow you to play with me or my things, and I won’t let you spend my money as if it’s yours when I’ve bled and grieved and almost died to earn it.”

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“You know the truth. Run from it if you like, deny it if you must, but remember this: There’s nothing wrong with lying until you start telling them to yourself.”

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He was not the man I’d thought he would be. He was not his mother’s creature. I had seen his dizzying array of masks, one for every occasion, and I had peeked beneath them.

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“As you say, madam.” Crestfallen, Hubert slumped his shoulders. “I am yours to command, should you need anything, anything at all. Your slightest whim is my greatest desire.”

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