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Chapter 5: "Awful..."
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Chapter 7: Reading Player Cards II
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... ow, concrete hallway that seemed to close in on Eric Maddox and his Silvergate Youth Sailors with every step.
The air was thick with the acrid stench of stale turf pellets, the damp musk of wet socks left too long in a kit bag, and the sharp, chemical bite of industrial detergent, the kind so potent it could strip paint off a locker door.
The walls, cold and unyielding, bore the scars of countless matches—scuff marks from errant boots, faded graffiti scratched into the concrete, ...
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