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... fingers laced together in a death grip.

The dim glow of his bedside lamp flickered against the walls, casting long, restless shadows that twisted and danced like specters whispering his darkest thoughts.

His muscles ached—a dull, gnawing soreness that echoed the brutal fight he had barely walked away from.

But that wasn’t the weight pressing down on his chest.

He had killed someone.

The memory replayed in his mind like a scratched record, skipping, looping ...

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