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Michael’s Secret Admirer,
Fiona’s hopeful killer…
Part one:
“Fi?” I called her. To my surprise, I heard her former accent peaking through. I turned to see her finishing a pepper grenade and putting aside a few blocks of C-4.
“You know, Michael… I get that you want back in… but I’m still to see a legitimate reason as to why you want back in. You’ve got everything you need here… your family, hate to say it, but Sam makes a good friend… and, maybe, one day… I could make a good wi---” I dropped my strawberry-banana yogurt, hearing her voice tickle the sound for an “F” as Sam opened the door, and was yapping about something. Fiona… a wife… Oh my God.
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