No Buko, No Pie



It’s been 12 years.

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Moody has been driving for what seemed like hours. The image of Hope with another man has scarred him. Better this way, he thinks. This is the beginning of the end of an addiction.

But that was 12 years ago.

Moody can’t let go. “I got it right the first time,” he says. And he let it define him.

Moody wants to break free, but can’t seem to. There is comfort with all his ghosts. “Let go of them all,” says Faith. “It’s time for you to check out.”

“You are afraid of me because I am no ghost. Accept that I am real. Accept that I make you defenseless. Accept that you have been waiting for that all these years.”

Grab it. Don’t think twice. You can’t say no.

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