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Chapter 47: Unease From Afar
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Chapter 49: When the Mask Slips
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... > Not easy—never easy—but familiar in the way sharp knives eventually fit the hand if you hold them long enough. I arrived at the institute just before seven, the stone steps still cool beneath my shoes, the city barely awake. The air carried the faint smell of bread from a nearby boulangerie, warm and grounding, a reminder that even here, where pressure sharpened every breath, food remained a comfort.
Inside, the halls hummed quietly. Lockers opened and closed. Shoes scuffed against til ...
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