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Chapter 71: Plans and Pouts
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Chapter 73: Foolish Redemption
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... ot technically the bottom, but it certainly smelled like it.
The lowest floor of the prison had always possessed that certain charm—like an open wound that refused to heal no matter how many times someone scraped it clean.
The air was thick, too thick, clinging to the skin like damp velvet. It hummed with the kind of anticipation only old, forgotten places could muster, as though the walls themselves were waiting for something.
Something terrible, or at least mildly enter ...
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