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Chapter 69: Clouds, Glitter, and Doom
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The dining hall felt like a crime scene.
No one was dead (yet), but the silence could’ve buried a hundred bodies. The chandelier above glimmered too brightly, the silverware gleamed like interrogation tools, and the only thing louder than my heartbeat was the clink of Alina’s spoon against her plate.
Across the long mahogany table, my parents sat like two marble statues—graceful, elegant, and absolutely terrifying.
Father’s posture was perfect, his expression carved ...
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