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... fter the sound of his footsteps faded into the shadows of the basement.

My back was still pressed against the cold steel of the cell door, and my lips... my lips still felt the ghost of his pressure.

I touched my mouth with trembling fingers, half-expecting to find blood there. Instead, I just felt the frantic, uneven rhythm of my own pulse in my fingertips.

Don’t mistake my restraint for weakness.

His words echoed in the silence, louder than the sound of my own h ...

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