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Chapter 70 - Seventy: The Ghost
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Chapter 72 - Seventy-Two: The Fraying Edge
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... 𝙘𝙤𝙢
I must have drifted off. The brain has a funny way of checking out when the reality of being tied to a chair in a damp cellar becomes too much to process.
I woke to the violent clang of metal hitting stone.
A silver tray slammed onto the floor in front of me, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the small space. The meal—if you could call the grayish, lukewarm sludge that spilled over the rim a meal—sprayed across the floor, some of it splattering onto the hem of my ...
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