She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. She dragged the broken bottle across her carotid artery, creating an inch-deep gash upon her throat. ‘But I ain’t been idle, miss, I swear it. No mercenary consideration influences me. The same pale white buttocks, the same freckles in the same unchanging patterns on her collarbone that all of her mother’s potions had never been able to erase.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQuMTQzLjIxMiAtIDE4LTA3LTIwMjQgMDU6Mjk6NDEgLSAxNzUyNTIxMjE5
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