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That night, Naomi Kenway slept fitfully. Four people were crammed into one bed: Naomi on the outside edge, Ian Shaw in the middle, Mona against the inner wall, and Six at the other end.
It wasn’t because the bed was crowded; something was weighing heavily on Naomi’s mind.
The room was unbearably stuffy, and the small fan hanging from the ceiling did nothing to help. She rolled over, got out of bed, grabbed a flashlight, and went out into the courtyard.
The night ...
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