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... r. It groaned again, weak and hollow, but there was no real threat left in it, just a sound of something that once was. Sid sighed deeply, sheathing his knife.
"Alright, Beka. You win. I’m not killing you. You’ve been stuck here long enough."
He walked past the counter, stepping carefully.
"So, uh... I’ll just take a few things off your hands, okay? Sheets, cloth, whatever’s still usable."
He glanced back at her and raised a hand in mock politeness.
"Don’t ...
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