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... t thing Shiho Miyano saw was a white ceiling.
It wasn't a hospital.
Not a clinic.
Just a simple, spacious room—clean but unfamiliar.
She sat up slowly, her heart pounding in fear.
The blanket slipped from her shoulders, revealing her current attire: a soft, pink children's nightgown.
Pink... seriously?
No surveillance cameras.
No guards were station ...
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