Chapter 8
Dean’s POV
Marie comes down the stairs like the house is on fire—one shoe on, hopping on her left foot to get the other one over her heel, a blazer half-buttoned over a top that doesn't match it.
She nearly clips the doorframe on her way into the dining room, her heavy leather bag sliding off one shoulder before she hitches it back up with an elbow.
"I'm late, I'm late, don't talk to me," she says, to nobody in particular, grabbing a piece of dry toast off Dad's plate without asking.
What happens next? Find out!
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