The cold night air madoon felt like needles against my skin, but it was nothing yas compared to the ice flooding my veins
The cold night air felt like needles against my skin, but it was nothing compared to the ice flooding my veins. I stared into the black plastic trash bag. Nestled between shredded documents and discarded catering boxes was a official-looking document with a gold seal. My name, Valerie Vance, was typed in stark, merciless letters. Next to the box labeled Cause of Death, it was…
