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Chapter 45: Expanding the Business
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Chapter 47: Gaining Traction
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... arred mouth, like some half-forgotten nerve had suddenly remembered it used to belong to a younger man.
His one good eye stayed locked on me, sharp and hateful, while the glassy one caught the torchlight and glimmered like a fish belly in the dark. Then, slowly—carefully—like a man picking his way across thin ice, he asked:
"What have you done?"
Oh, saints, those words. He didn’t bark them. He didn’t snarl them. He whispered them the way a priest might whisper over a coff ...
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