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Summary
“It is nice of you to join us for the funeral, Eve.”
Eve sighs. “What the fuck are you doing up there?”
“Planticide,” Villanelle says solemnly, frowning down from where she’s sat on top of the campervan like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “Harry must die for his crimes.”
—
or,
Eve Polastri's Definitive Guide to Bringing a Dog (?) on a Road Trip With Your Very Own Russian Assassin
Series
- Part 2 of baby, need a ride?
