The seventh soulmate (marvel)
The marks were a cruel kind of cartography. On your left forearm, the letters were etched in a stark, ink-black pigment that never faded, no matter how hard you scrubbed. S.R., T.S., N.R., B.B., P.P., W.M. Six sets of initials. Six reminders that you were the missing piece to a puzzle that already looked complete on the evening news.
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