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“Mrs Montoya, stop! Please!”

I als!?

But as I struggle ontoin h and I’m reminded of who I am to these people: their boss’s future wife

Shouldn’t that give e?

I ju driver “Stop!” I order, in el impression

Surprisingly, the young man does as I say

Young He

couldn’t be er than h

The body guard isn’t stopping, though He crawls around the front hood of the li el ht he was, but I can’t iine he’d take kindly to anyone who loses his fiancée

I wonder what he did to those guards who took me to Dante, back at the compound?

I don’t have ties for h to avoid his grip He falls to the dirt road and a big plume of dust lifts all around hiet, so I rip off my sandals and run

Away fro town

I know a shortcut across the river, and it’s through the thick stretches of forest that line this dusty dirt road I’uys, but if I can lose ht actually be able to escape their ‘protective’ grip and make it into town

My ears rush with blood, and the voices yelling fro more distant by the second Adrenaline lifts ust ofto make it

Suddenly, a flurry of thunderous roars shakes the air The blood immediately drains from my ears and I can’t help but turn around