The dark blue waves roared below, taunting Delia. Everything had slithered through, leaving her with nothing to cling to. Roger was gone, and she was desperately alone.
Roger had been a guiding light for Delia. She had cackled with him at their successes and begged him for forgiveness when plans had turned terribly sour. Without him, she was stranded in the dark, a lone conspirator. Or so she thought.
Delia turned from the cliffs, a malicious smile spreading across her face. Now that Roger had disappeared, she would be the puppeteer. And before long, she had her next victim selected.
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