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... The next, she was somewhere else entirely.
A room. Stone walls. Dim light from a single barred window set too high to reach. The smell hit her first—copper and rot and human waste, thick enough to taste.
She looked down.
A man knelt on the floor, hands bound behind his back, face bruised and swollen. Mid-forties, graying hair, expensive suit torn and stained with blood. His eyes were vacant, shock-glazed, like he’d stopped processing reality hours ago.
Behind him ...
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