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... cut deeper into her wrist as she strained, dragging the edge of the heavy table in a vain attempt to follow them.
The door slammed shut.
She was alone.
Her breath hitched, chest heaving from the panic setting in like cold water filling her lungs. The stench of sweat, cheap perfume, and something acrid, vomit, maybe, choked the air. The boy’s body lay sprawled just feet from her, eyes still open, glassy with death. His hand was outstretched toward her, fingers curled like ...
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