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Chapter 61: Orchestrated Chaos
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Chapter 63: Reflections and Reversals
PREVIEW
... no choir of angels or slow-motion gasps. No dramatic swell of violins in the background. Just the hard, undignified thud of bone against cold stone and the wet slap of blood pooling at my side, sticky and obscene.
My legs had simply given up on the concept of existing beneath me, and so I collapsed, not out of grace, choice, or narrative elegance—but because the pain had finally turned louder than my pride. There was no strength left to pretend otherwise.
The world slowed, not w ...
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