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Chapter 108: Trust
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Chapter 110: Nightmare
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... my new room, my eyes glued to the old witch in her rocking chair. Just like before, her eyes are glued to the little, worn-out book, its dry pages slicing through the silence every time she turns them.
I have already grown to hate that sound––it reminds me of nails scraping a porcelain dish.
My fingers are wrapped around a paper cup filled with water; from time to time, I look down at its steady, transparent surface, frowning a little as I think about what kind of shit it can be ...
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