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... t too much to absorb slowly.
I began to hasten the surveillance footage, accelerating it roughly fourfold, the scenes blurring into a rush.
Michael's movements were already swift, but at this pace, they dissolved into a fleeting haze of motion.
"Slap, slap, slap, slap..." The sounds of their closeness melded into a relentless hum, a rhythm with scarcely a breath between beats.
It seemed the faster I played it, the less my heartache swelled, as if speed dulled the ...
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