Working quickly, she signed her name, praying that this time it would take. She made it almost to the last letter before her hand started shaking. She tried to drop the pen, but it was too late, the ink had already begun to flow backwards, up into the nib and then down into the pen’s cartridge.
He’d told her she wouldn’t be able to end
things, and no matter how hard she tried, it seemed that he had been right.
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