The Patron Saint of Lost Causes
Chapter 3
Rose felt terrible. Angry, sure, but at who? At Hux, no doubt. Murderer of thousands and an arrogant jerk to boot. She was angry at herself, too. She'd been reeled in by some text on a computer screen, lulled into thinking the spy could be some sort of hero, some lost soul in need of repentance. But it had turned out to be Hux, the architect of everything that had all but destroyed the galaxy, who'd turned on his own organization simply to save himself.
She kept glancing furiously back at the three men behind her, a bleary-eyed Hux hoisted between Poe and Finn as they trudged back to camp. Every so often the redhead would stumble, feet dragging on the forest floor before being lifted up again. It was obvious he was trying to keep quiet, holding back the pain behind gritted teeth, but a hiss here and a gasp there did little to belie how injured he was.
"You look like shit," Finn mumbled.
"Yes, well, you did shoot me."
"You asked me to!"
"In the arm!"
"Shut up," Poe cut them off, catching Rose's eye as she looked back again. He was seething with anger too, she could tell. "Look sharp General," he added with considerable venom, "stockades' this way."
At his voice, Rose felt a stab of panic.
"Wait," she said, stopping in her tracks. "Medbays over there." She pointed in the opposite direction. When Poe pushed past her, she caught his elbow. "You can't seriously be thinking of throwing him in a cell. Look at him! He's falling apart!"
"It's called dying," Hux corrected her.
"He needs medical attention." Rose pulled on Poe's arm when he avoided her eyes. Despite how much she detested the man, she wasn't going to let him die. "He's my asset!"
"This is my call," Poe hissed back.
She bristled, her anger suddenly redirected. "Leia put him under my supervision." He looked unconvinced. "He saved your life," she said, incredulous. "His own people shot him so you could escape. Is that really how you're going repay him?"
Finn glanced over Hux's bowed head. "She's got a point, you know."
Poe's resolve seemed to crumple a fraction.
"Fine. You want him?" Poe's nose scrunched in disgust. "You got him. He's your problem. But we're still taking him to the holding cells," he added when she opened her mouth to speak. "We can have one of the medical staff sent over to take a look at him but he's staying in the stockade. He's too much of a risk not to have him confined."
"Fine," Rose said, hands on her hips.
"Fine."
"Fine!"
"Uh, guys?" Finn cut in, giving their captive a little shake. "I think he's out again."
Rose peered around Poe's shoulder. Hux was slumped forward, hanging uncomfortably by where the boys held him up under his arms. He really did look terrible now that she got a good look at him. There was a splash of dried blood upon his brow and down the side of his face, making his red hair look almost black. He was missing his greatcoat, but under the tattered jacket she could clearly see dark purple splotches on the bit of skin peeking through. The wound on his leg seemed suspiciously puffy; probably an infection.
Could it really have been him, she wondered? The man who'd tried to have her executed was the same spy who'd given the Resistance such vital information?
"I don't care if you win. I need Kylo Ren to lose!"
That's what he'd said, according to Finn. Not surprising, really. The spy— er— Hux had never really given the impression that he cared about their cause.
Do you want the information or not?..? Was all he wrote when she'd pressed him.
And they did. Desperately.
But that was the reason Hux defected? Because he hated Kylo Ren?
Her mind was reeling as she followed the three towards the jail cells, located in one of the base's connecting caves. Not at all like the shiny, holo-shielded brigs on the Resistance flagships; these little chambers were carved out of the rock itself, openings secured with thick durasteel bars and sporting low, stone slab pallets. Finn and Poe deposited the unconscious General onto one of the hard bunks, moonlight filtering in from the tiny barred window near the ceiling. Rose shivered out in the hallway, illuminated by a rope of dangling lights that hung overhead. The cavern was slightly damp; chilly in the early darkness.
"Do we have blankets?" She asked, rubbing her arms.
Poe made a noise of reluctance, but Finn pointed to the bank of lockers out in the hallway. Rose fished out a coarse wool sheet, barely long enough to wrap around someone Hux's size, and frayed at the edges. It smelled a little dusty, but seemed warm.
On the stone cot, Hux's head lulled to one side.
"Alright," Poe clapped his hands together, like he were ridding himself of something particularly messy. Coming out into the hallway, he fished something out of his pocket and tossed it in Rose's direction. She caught it with one hand. It was flat datachip, one which would open the cell. It was a testament to how ancient the base really was; physical keys instead of a lock with an input code. "Now you're the head Engineer, the lead Spymaster, and our jailer. Congratulations on your promotion." Without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked haughtily out into the night.
Rose moved toward the cell's open door, looking at Hux but speaking to Finn, who was still standing in the corridor. "He's not going to get the med staff, is he?"
"I'll send them," Finn said. The he sighed. "You really think this is a good idea? The least he's done is try and get the two of us executed. But Starkiller? Our fleet? Project Resurrection? How many people has he killed, let alone tortured? Billions?"
"I didn't know who it was when I gave him our coordinates." A heavy feeling settled in her chest; disappointment and shame.
"Would you have? If you knew?"
"I don't know."
She really didn't.
Could she have let Hux die? Knowing it was Hux? Knowing what he'd done?
Oh, she wanted to say yes. She wanted to.
"Do you think Leia knew? Who the spy was, I mean."
Rose shook her head softly. "I… I don't know."
Finn sighed, patting her on the shoulder. "I know Poe would like nothing better than to throw Hux into a trash compactor, but he won't. Because Leia wouldn't. He knows that. That's why he's so mad. Leia would've done what you did. She'd be proud."
For saving a murderer? An unfeeling monster? Like Hux?
"You think so?"
He nodded. "She was the best of us."
They watched their captive in silence, until he twitched and moaned in his sleep.
"Right," Finn said, "I'll send over the medic. Here, keep this." He clipped his blaster onto her belt. "Just in case."
"Thanks, Finn."
"Yeah. No problem."
Large hands held him down despite his thrashing, something white-hot burning into the crook of his arm. His was small again, looking up with misplaced longing instead of down his nose with derisive dismissal. That would come later. No, right now, he was powerless. Tears blurred his vision, and he tried to curl himself into something small, so small and insignificant that he'd truly disappear. As much as he wanted to stand his ground, defended her, in the end he always was a coward. Just a weak-willed boy. His body became sluggish and numb, unable to even crawl away.
His vision shot through with scorching red beam and a woman screamed, but he could not see her.
And then he woke, knocking back whoever had been hovering over him, the object they'd been holding clattering to the ground.
"Good gracious!" A woman's stern voice, old and cracked like leaves, one he did not recognize, spoke from somewhere above him. "Manners, young man."
Through a swimming gaze he saw a hunched-back crone stoop to pick up a small metallic device, lekku shifting. She was bathed in the light of the moon, along with tinny yellow beams from sparse, overhead bulbs. Behind her, another figure hung back in the shadows, holding something in their arms.
As the Twi'lek crept closer once again, silver instrument moving towards him, he flinched away instinctively. "Stay back," he hissed. He tried to sit up, but his body felt beyond his control, still and unmoving. "I- I demand to know what you've done to me."
The crone waved her instrument in the air, a flippant gesture. "Just a little injection. Numbing. For the pain. So you stop your thrashing; making everything worse." She pointed a gnarled finger to the inside of his right arm, where there was a bandage over an obvious needle prick. "Had to use some of the good stuff on you, boy. Now hold still. I'm trying to spray this on your head wound. It would hurt less if you stopped all your fish wriggling."
Hux bristled at her tone, and at the near-quiet snort from the other side of the room, which made him even more irritable. He glared over at the figure, still fuzzy at the edge of his vision, and tried to sneer, although it came off more tired than intimidating.
"Enjoy watching torture, do you?"
The figure scoffed. "Oh please," it was that woman's voice, the one from the Supremacy; from the forest clearing. The one who bit him. "Therissa's the best field medic we have. Don't be such a baby."
"But she's… old. Ouch!" The Twi'lek had moved from his head, which buzzed pleasantly with a cool numbing, to his ruined leg, which she'd grabbed rather roughly at his words, turning it toward her. Hux leaned his head back against the cold stone slab and groaned in pain.
"Lucky this didn't sever anything important," the healer remarked, prodding at the skin around the wound, which, thankfully, he was beginning to feel less of with all the drugs coursing through him. Fiddling with the object in her hand, she injected the restorative compound into the skin on both sides of the injury. "This should stop the infection and begin the healing process." She took a two large patches out of the many folds of her coat, fabric like overlapping flower petals. She peeled away the adhesive side, before pressing one against the gash in his leg. "You won't be able to put all your weight on it for a week or so, but if we're vigilant you should heal up."
He tried not to wince. "And the broken rib?" He muttered.
"Two, actually, but they're just fractures." She slapped the second pad onto the central bruise on his chest. "Not much we can do about that now, is there? It will take some days to heal with the proper medicine, but we'll keep it monitored. You did ingest a fair bit of blood, but it's not life-threatening. There now, satisfied?"
Hux didn't know how to properly respond, so he just stared at her. The old Twi'lek peered back before turning to shuffle away through the jail cell's door.
"Thank you," he said stiffly, like he wasn't sure he was speaking the correct language.
The crone paused, inclining her head toward him through the bars, before taking her leave. Outside, in the brief silence, he could hear the muffled sounds of people and nighttime insects.
"So... Finn was pretty sure he didn't shoot you in the chest. What the hell happened?"
Her voice; she was disappointed in him.
"Pryde." His breathing stuttered. "They— saw through me. After I freed your comrades."
"And yet you're not scorched through."
"B-Beskar."
Hells, he hurt.
She was silent for a long while. Minutes? Hours? He wasn't sure. Everything was a haze.
He licked his dry lips, swallowing thickly with a cough.
"Are you thirsty?" She asked.
The young woman stepped forward, and he could finally see her in the light that slanted over her face, reflecting on her dark hair. She looked different, he thought, from when she'd worn the teal of a Major, but the fire in her deep, dark eyes hadn't changed.
She was holding a blanket and a canteen, and her gaze was hard, as if the possibility of his thirst offended her personally. Wary, he nodded without a word. He wasn't so pigheaded as to refuse water just because she was his enemy.
She approached, going down on a knee in front of him, and he tried to angle his face away so he didn't have to look at her. Lying broken at the hearth of the enemy was humiliation enough without her accusing eyes.
"You can't drink the water if you're not facing the canteen. I'm not going to force feed you," she snapped, impatient.
Hux turned his head back toward her, heat flaring in his cheeks at the mere suggestion, ready to snarl, but his eyes caught on the pendant around her neck. Haysian ore. It glittered in the dim light.
He could remember the sound of it. Cannon fire on a planet's surface.
She should be sheathing a slow knife into his neck, not offering him a drink.
"Can you sit up or anything?"
It took him a moment to work out what she was asking. He tried to slide his body backward, but the drugs were making it almost impossible to use his muscles properly.
"Damn it," he muttered. Abject helplessness, which he had experienced many times during his youth, and in adulthood at the hands of Ren's Force choking; Snoke's battering, was not a sensation he particularly enjoyed. It made him nervous. It meant his control was slipping, and more often than not, control was all Hux had. Trying a second time to get his body to respond, only to have it tense lamely, started a keen note of panic in the pit of his stomach.
She could clearly see his distress, the rigid expression on her face breaking a little.
"Hey, stop," she set the canteen and blanket down. "Here, let me help before you hurt yourself even worse." Much to his extreme discomfort, she slipped an arm behind his shoulders, pulling him up and back so he was reclined slightly against the wall. The movement caused a dull, throbbing pain that made him hiss. "Sorry," she said, "but it's better so you don't choke."
His mouth worked, jaw clenching over and over. She was in his personal space and there was nothing he could do to push her away.
"Well, you probably can't grab the canteen either, can you?" She sighed, sounding put-out, working over the problem before coming to some sort of personal resolve. Slowly, she reached out toward him, her fingertips grazing the back of his hand with the most tentative of touches. Surprise blinked over her features, like she was amazed the contact hadn't burned her, or that his skin wasn't cold and inhuman.
He screwed his eyes shut, lamenting that Kijimi's explosion hadn't been kind enough to simply obliterate him.
Gently, she wrapped his fingers around the bottle, holding them in place with her own. Her hand wasn't as soft as he'd expected, but it was warm. She used his own arm to guide the rim of the bottle to his mouth.
Once the cool water passed his lips, thoughts of death evaporated, and he drank greedily. He kept his eyes trained on her, trying to stay vigilant lest she pull some kind of trick. He found himself wondering instead at the way the light made her glow, such a contrast to the cold, harsh tones of anything remotely like the First Order. His thoughts chased each other, fizzling out before he could complete them; the meds making him woozy.
"What is it?" She asked, pulling the canteen away when he was finished.
Hux swallowed. "I am unable to remember your name."
She looked confused. "Why do you care?"
"It's a reasonable question," he frowned, affronted at her tone. "And… I'm unsure if it's because of the medication or because I simply do not know it." His head was getting fuzzy again, only this time it didn't feel like a cold wave rising up to drown him, but a gentle slip into her radiating warmth
Her mouth formed a silent 'oh'.
She set down the canteen, reaching for the blanket. She didn't look at him.
"It's Rose. Rose Tico."
He must have fully succumbed to the drugs coursing through him. The next time he woke it was day, sun casting diffused light through the window at the top of his cell. He was back to lying flat on the stone pallet, warm under the small but thick blanket.
Next to his cot sat the water canteen and a small pile of ration bars. Hux rolled onto his side, body stiff and twinging with pain. He gulped down the water, unwrapping and nibbling on the bar without getting up. The food, little though it was, filled his stomach. He drank the rest of the water.
Through fitful, drug-induced sleep, he had the vaguest sense of the Twi'lek returning. She injected him and took his vitals before shuffling out.
She was there too, but stuck to the shadows and only came during the evening. He suspected she was the one who kept refilling his water and bringing him food.
A few days after his arrival, crash landing into the mercy of the Resistance, Hux felt well enough to sit up. His chest ached dully, as did his leg, but the patches were doing their job. The cut on the side of his head was even healed, save for a thin scar, the dried blood having been dabbed away without his realizing it.
It was late morning, and he was chewing on a ration bar when they finally arrived.
The woman, Rose, and, to his displeasure, the pilot.
"Well, looks like you're settling in," Poe crossed his arms. He nodded to Rose, who unlocked the cell's door with the keycard.
Hux ran a hand through his hair to push it back, but the lack of pomade made the gesture useless. Setting the ration bar down, he rose to stand at attention, trying to pull his uniform into a more respectable fashion, despite its ragged appearance.
The pair came inside, Rose locking the door behind her.
Poe gave the man a look of faux amazement. "No longer dying?"
Hux's lip curled. "It appears so."
"We had to ration some of that First Order medicine we stole from you guys a while back. Potent stuff."
"How very generous of you."
Poe planted his hands on his hips. "You don't sound very grateful for someone who's still breathing. Especially when so many people 'round here would love to put you in the ground." A muscle in Hux's jaw twitched. "Well, since you're clearly feeling better, it's time to discuss just exactly what you want out of this little arrangement. Rose said you claimed to have some information to help us going forward. You broke us out, so I'm willing to listen."
Hux glanced in Rose's direction and back again. "I was under the impression it was her job to ask the questions." He could tell the insinuation bothered Dameron in the way the man's shoulders rose, like hackles on a dog.
"I'm in charge here, buddy," Poe snapped, hiking his thumb at his own chest.
Hux sneered. "Clearly."
Rose took a step around Dameron. Hux tilted his chin down a fraction to look at her.
"Poe's right," she said, a frown pulling at her lips. "We're not giving you free room and board for nothing. Information for safety, remember?"
His leg was beginning to ache. Despite the twinge of embarrassment at breaking his stance, he had to sit before he tumbled to the ground instead. With a huff, he sat back upon the long stone bench, but kept his back ridged with practiced formality.
In this position, he was looking up at her instead. A surreal reversal from when she'd been his captive on the Supremacy. The hand she'd bitten curled into a fist upon his knee.
"What has happened to the First Order?" He asked.
"We don't need to tell you anything," Poe seethed, but Rose didn't break eye contact.
"There was a battle on Exegol. Palpatine's fleet was defeated. Pryde is dead."
Good, Hux thought with acidic vindication. He pressed his lips together, wondering which underling had taken control of the Finalizer.
"So," Rose stood with one hip cocked. Highly unprofessional, Hux thought. "We told you what's happened to the fleet. Now you tell us something. A question for a question. How about that?"
Ah, they've come to the transnational part of the relationship. This, Hux could understand.
"It's my turn," Rose added. "So, tell me, why are you here? Why are you doing this? Finn said you wanted to stick it to Ren, but that can't be it."
Hux sniffed airily. "It's true. I would like nothing better than to rid the Order of Ren's malign influence." It was high time to cut the deadwood from the wandering beast the Order had become under all those damnable Force users. Perhaps the Resistance could help with that, chipping away at the bloated, unmanageable bits, leaving a nimbler force ripe for re-constitution. It would be the ultimate long-game.
"You mentioned the fleet, the Emperor; Pryde. What's happen to Ren?"
"He and Rey fought against Palpatine. Rey was injured and he gave his life to save her. I'm not sure about the details."
Ah, a true fool to the end then, Hux thought. Thinking of Ren and his bullheaded ideas made him flush with anger.
"But we're not here about Ren," Rose said with pointed finality. "We're here about you. How exactly do you think you'll be able to help us?"
"Most of our operations are hidden in the Unknown Regions," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "If the fleet's been disabled then we are a weakened threat, but there are still several installations yet untouched."
Rose touched her chin with a finger, thinking. "Installations? Like, specifically…?"
Hux smirked. "Ah, a question for a question, as you said. Besides, if I tell you everything now, what's the incentive to keep me alive?"
One of the woman's eyebrows twitched up. "Touché. What else would you like to know?"
"I'd like the courtesy of knowing where I'm currently being held. The coordinates you sent me were encrypted. They brought me here, but I am so far unaware as to where here is."
Rose narrowed her eyes. "That's a pretty dangerous ask."
"Yes," the corner of his mouth twitched up, "it is."
She held his gaze, and there was a certain glint in her eyes that intrigued him.
She was… enjoying this.
Interesting.
Hux had to remind himself, this indeed was the same woman he'd been corresponding with during his last few months upon the Steadfast.
While their communications had largely been formal, it hadn't stopped her messages from containing such an engaging, unique voice. From inserting bits of wit and sharp critiques, to building just enough of a personal rapport to secure his confidence. It was what any good handler would do. She'd had a keen ability to take what scant information he gave her and see through to exactly what the Order was planning. He'd been impressed, and now he knew why.
"Rose," Poe cautioned. Hux blinked, glancing at him. He'd forgotten the man was even in the room. "I don't think—"
"Ajan Kloss, Cademimu sector," she said.
An Outer Rim territory. Interesting.
After a moment's thought, he inclined his head slightly, indicating that she should continue.
She shifted her weight to the other hip. "What kind of First Order installations are in the Unknown Regions?"
"Shipyards, weapons factories, bases. Starkiller was one such station, but there are others." At his mentioning of Starkiller, a shadow passed over the woman's face, as if she'd momentarily forgotten who he was in the heat of their conversation. "In any event," he pressed on, "if you wish to truly subdue the Order, you will need to disable or commandeer these places. If I can retrieve some of my things from the Steadfast I can supply you with locations, officer's codes, and other documents of import."
Then he could slip away, escape with the Destroyer and Millicent and begin again. He imagined her curling by his feet in his war room, purring. The thought elicited the smallest of smiles.
Poe snorted, hands still firmly planted on his hips. "The Steadfast?" He laughed, a single note of ridicule. "Didn't you hear what Rose just said? That piece of junk crashed onto the surface of Exegol. It's gone. It exploded. More than half the remaining stormtoopers that survived have already defected. The Order is done."
The smile on Hux's mouth froze.
Gone?
Oh.
But—
He looked at Rose, unable to hide his desperation. "Gone?"
She didn't have to answer. Just the way she avoided his gaze told him enough.
How—
He tried to cover his sudden shock but failed. In an attempt to save face, he bent his head, hoping the hair that had fallen out of place could hide his expression. Now both his hands were fists upon his knees.
Was that it then? A cold dread spreading through him. All his work, all his efforts. All the times he had to look over his shoulder to thwart his enemies, fight to keep his head above water, survive long enough to rise through the ranks and bend the machine to his will…
Yes, he had become disillusioned with the Order's direction under Ren. But the organization itself? There was still pride there, for what he had been able to build; what they'd wanted to achieve.
Now it was gone, and he was sitting in a cell, and for what?
And now Millicent—
Unconsciously, he mumbled the tabby's name.
Rose went pale, realization dawning on her face.
"What?" Poe leaned forward. He hadn't been able to sort out Hux's words, but Rose had.
"Millicent," Rose supplied in a breathy voice, like she couldn't get the proper amount of air into her lungs. "That's her name."
Poe shot her a look. "What? Like—like his girlfriend?"
Rose swallowed heavily. "N-no—"
But Poe rounded on Hux. "You had a girlfriend?" He sounded bewildered. "What, some Trooper you were getting it on with in the droid closet?" He laughed incredulously. "Don't feel too bad Hugs, I'm sure she was just fucking you for an advancement.
Rose gasped in true horror. "Poe!"
But his gaze was hard, cruel, caught up in the triumph over a man he'd once only dreamed of bringing to heel. "Well that's too bad, isn't it? Everything and everyone in that ship is gone. Space dust. Vaporized. You'd be lucky to find a finger bone, pal."
Hux moved faster than Rose had expected in his condition, and from a seated position too. Even Poe was momentarily taken aback as Hux vaulted from the bench with an almost feral cry of anger, one arm cocked back to strike Poe in the face. Of course, Poe was faster on any normal day, let alone with Hux being injured. Rose jumped with a yelp as Poe reeled back and struck Hux in the stomach with his fist.
The other man doubled over with a cry of pain, going to his knees, arms wrapped around his middle as he pitched forward, forehead pressed to the ground.
"The hell?" Poe took a step back, shaking out the tension of the hand he'd used to strike.
"Millicent wasn't his girlfriend," Rose said quietly, staring at the man on the floor, who was trying and failing to push himself back up with one hand. "It was his cat."
Hux's hand curled back into a fist, but he could barely raise it from the ground. Head still resting on the cool stone, he struck at the floor weakly. Rose heard his labored breathing, pitched oddly high, as if he were trying not to cry. He was trembling, very slightly.
"His cat?" Poe looked uncomfortable. Almost regretful. "All that over a cat?"
Rose shook her head. He probably had nothing else, she thought, but couldn't bring herself the voice the words. Instead, she bent down, trying to settle a hand on the man's shoulder. Her concern automatic in the face of such sorrow. At her touch, he jerked up just enough to push her away, causing her to lose her balance and fall back onto the ground.
"Don't touch me!"
The glimpse of his face, screwed up with pain and anger, tore at her heart with unexpected ferocity, despite knowing what Hux had done and what misery he'd caused. He was a monster, but loss was loss. She understood it all too well. They all did.
"What were you thinking?" They'd left Hux quickly after that, but Rose caught Poe as they made their way back to the hanger. "We're suppose to be convincing him to help us. He's not going to even talk, let alone spill First Order secrets, after that." She gestured back to the holding cells behind her. "If this is going to work then you can't keep provoking him."
He wouldn't look her in the eye. "I know. I know! It's... I got carried away, okay? He's just such a bastard, Rose! He should know what it feels like!"
She scoffed. "So you punch him?"
"He came at me! I just reacted on instinct!"
"He can barely stand!
"How was I supposed to know the slimeball had a cat, anyway?"
"The cat is not the point," Rose groaned. "He saved your life!"
Poe stopped retreating and turned, pulling himself up to his full height and going toe-to-toe with her.
"And how many times do I have to keep repaying that debt, huh? He's here, isn't he? He's alive. We're going to be feeding him. Housing him. Wasting our provisions on him. That's not enough? He didn't even let Finn and I go to help us. He did it for himself! He's not some lost Stormtrooper looking for a trade in, Rose!"
"I know who he is," she countered. "I'm not under the impression that he's here out of the goodness of his heart, but we prove him right when we treat him like he's worthless. Because that's how they'd treat us." She jabbed at her own chest.
Poe seemed pinned in place at that.
"Guys? Everything okay over here?" Having heard the commotion, Finn came bounding up, and put a gentle hand on Poe's shoulder.
At the contact, Poe sighed, "Yeah." He looked at Rose, sheepish. "You're right, okay? I'm sorry. I messed up. I let him get under my skin and it was stupid."
Rose nodded. "He's good at that, but you have to keep it together. Hurting Hux doesn't help us any."
"I know, and we don't have to stoop to his level." He ran a hand through his hair. "Next time, just give me a bit of warning, okay? Give me a heads up before go about rescuing more wayward First Order fanatics. That's all I ask."
"Yeah. I will." Rose crossed her arms. "Just promise you'll leave Hux to me."
"You got it."
now ya'll know why I never mentioned Millicent in my review replies... oof
sorry :/
Check out my 'Patron Saint' playlist on Spotify:
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