Help on the way
Clinton grumbled again before letting out a resigned sigh. “Alright, I’ll come over. But if this turns out to be some sort of overexaggeration or joke, you’re buying me breakfast.” Ben smirked faintly despite himself, even in the tension of the moment. “Deal. Just get here quick.” He hung up, slid the phone back into his pocket, and stared once more at the pale heap beneath his porch. His pulse quickened as he waited for help.
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