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Natasha opened the door to her apartment and hit the light switch near the door. A small light on a small table near the door was the only light on in the whole penthouse. The temperature was on the cool side at fifty five since it was a waste to heat an empty place. She kicked the door shut with a foot and looked around the penthouse.
It had been six months since she had been home. She had come home to a cold, dark and empty penthouse. It was a reflection of her life. Cold, dark and empty. Natasha had close friends, but even those she kept at a distance. She lived in the dark and shadows and tried to keep that part of her life from touching the people she cared about.
Natasha didn't bother looking in the refrigerator or the cabinets for food. She grabbed the bottle of vodka on the counter and headed for her bedroom.
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