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Summary
“Why your heart? You’ve got two of loads of things, why not a leg, or a hand?”
“And why are you so desperate for my fingers in your mouth?”
She laughed as Clara spluttered. Leather jacket in a desert. Terrible idea. Her whole body was burning.
“The heart is symbolic,” Missy said, teeth clicking on every syllable. “It's camp. Eat me like you mean it, darling.”
