it, and she probably knew it the second she was hauled under. What was left of her surely made everyone’s stomachs flip. She was scraps on a dinner plate put into a blender. Her head, arms, and chest were intact, her wetsuit was cut through like paper and where the waist was, or should’ve been, there wasn’t much, and it wasn’t taken off cleanly either. Ripped flesh either dangled or fell off her like a tender piece of meat falling off the bone besides the clumps of damp sand that slid off her. Her…
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