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Chapter 3: The Quiet Roommate and the Loud Night
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Chapter 5: The Opposite of Me
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... s, slicing across his face like an accusation.
His head throbbed in waves, mouth dry as chalk. His mouth tasted like cotton, and his head throbbed in slow, pulsing beats.
He reached blindly for his phone, fingers brushing the edge of the nightstand until he grabbed it. One squinting eye cracked open.
9:02 AM
"Shit," he muttered, shooting upright.
Panic flushed through his chest as he sprang to his feet. A sock clung to his arm, one shoe halfway under the b ...
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