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... view, and for a moment, I’m alone again in the boiling hot, sweat-drenched weight room. I turn around, scanning the room. Still alone, and silent other than the sound of my breathing (which is uncomfortably loud in the aftermath of the message), and the old fan mounted in the far corner of the room near the stationary bicycles.

Then, the air in the center of the room wavers, like heat rising off asphalt in the middle of summer. I instinctively take a step backwards, my back bumping agai ...

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