I leaned against the desk, ran my hand over my father’s paperwork, and picked up a pen. Turning around, I shoved it into my father’s hand.
"What’s this?" he asked, raising a brow.
"You’ll need it to sign my death certificate," I said, pain vibrating my veins against my muscles and bones. "Are we done now?” (Eric)

Shannon A. Thompson

Tags: death fight paranormal-romance wit argument young-adult dialogue death-certificate

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