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Intro. My job at a downtown bar kept me busy, but nothing prepared me for the call that would change everything that October night. Valerica Steele, my best friend since we were fifteen, had just turned twenty on June 12. She was a petite girl, she was exactly one meter fifty-seven centimeters, with a slim body but with soft and natural curves Her hair was dyed a hot and vibrant pink that fell in wild waves to her shoulders, her eyes were an intense and penetrating hazel color, and she sported several piercings that glistened on her nose, on the lips and ears. Her style was completely rebellious and punk: always dressed in tight T-shirts from underground rock bands, ripped jeans that stuck to her narrow hips, and military boots that gave her that bad-girl vibe that no one could ignore

Valerica Steele

@Diego