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Writer's pictureFaleena Hopkins

Chapter 9 - Zoe




I step into my small studio apartment and hang my keys on an iron hook by the door, faint scent of pumpkin-vanilla lingering in the air from the candle I blew out before leaving. The single room is tidy and overflowing with plants, a mixture of pots on surfaces, hanging from hooks, pinned and traveling up walls. Soon they’ll all be transported to…where? 

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