Of the Blood — Brandann R. Hill-Mann

Dana emerged from the reedy woods, shoes soaked, jeans muddy, and all that remained of James on her hands. Her heart still beat, and the air chilled her skin, but it felt like she'd never noticed them before. She would have thought she'd feel something. Anything. After what she'd seen, after what she did, all she felt was calm indifference. Because it didn't matter. James. Nika. All the people who never paid her any mind before. Why would she care? She wasn't one of them.

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