starlecki
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Hannibal smells her first. Nearly buried beneath the pungency of the cheap colognes mounted on a nearby display case is something totally incongruous: the sticky-sweet dough scent of the cinnamon pretzels sold down on the mall’s first level. He parts the suits with both hands, hangers squeaking on the bar, and looks down at the young girl squatting on the floor in the middle of the rack.
Or, Will loses his daughter at the mall. Hannibal returns her to him.
- Language:
- English
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Bookmarked by starlecki
05 Feb 2025