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... into the pitch-black bedroom, I turned to glance at Betty, who lay quietly beside me, appearing so docile and serene.
I sighed.
Was I being overly suspicious, seeing shadows where there were none?
Yet, those nagging doubts clung to my mind, refusing to be dismissed: What was with the unusual scent of shower gel on Betty that day?
Where did the items we shopped for disappear to?
Perhaps there was a water outage, and Betty had to use a public bathhouse; mayb ...
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