Felicis
French trash
Nicole blushed slightly as his hand met hers. She tightened her grip, making sure he wouldn't let go; She was glad Marcus was there with her. If she had been alone, she would have been scared to her death.
Just then, she heard voices coming the dining room. "Follow me," she whispered quietly, as she led him through the house. Reaching the room, she peeked through the slightly ajar door. There were men in there, carrying guns and a black bag, with masks over their faces. She turned to face Marcus, her eyes filled with fear. "There are people in there," she whispered. "And they don't look very nice."
Just then, she heard voices coming the dining room. "Follow me," she whispered quietly, as she led him through the house. Reaching the room, she peeked through the slightly ajar door. There were men in there, carrying guns and a black bag, with masks over their faces. She turned to face Marcus, her eyes filled with fear. "There are people in there," she whispered. "And they don't look very nice."
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