Prologue

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Everything began on a Tuesday night. The bees flew through the spitting rain, wishing the sun would visit from Australia at some point. Seriously, those Australians are very selfish; surely they could spare the sun from its torment down under. While safe inside, brisk flies danced around a deftly withering squab. No further than three meters away, a spiffing young girl sat, quiet with knowledge that she had a promising future. Her A Levels pretty much aced, even though they hadn't been sat yet and her popularity campaign on fleek. Basically, anything academic, beatific or creative goal that existed was perfectly ticked off with a perfect fountain pen with perfect handwriting to perfect her absolutely perfect perfectness.

This girl was not Kathy Kalloway III.

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