PREVIEW
... dy forward and the stares followed.
The press department students looked like starving dogs watching a steak walk past them. Their eyes were practically glowing with eagerness to dash toward me and bombard questions about the reward.
But they held back. Maybe it was the blood drying on my clothes or this broken body and its condition. Maybe they figured this wasn’t the right moment. Maybe they pitied the half-dead man stumbling through the arena.
Too bad for them. I was m ...
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