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Chapter 55: HE’S ALREADY DEAD
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Chapter 57: ACTIVE PARTICIPANTS: 1001
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... hands, its silver-embossed name seeming to pulse against his skin. "It would be an invasion of privacy."
He placed the diary carefully on the bedside table as if it were a live explosive, positioning it exactly where he’d found it.
The temptation was a cold knot in his stomach, but the memory of the digital warning—she knows—was a stronger deterrent. For now.
He walked to the bathroom, washed the blood—from the blood—from his scraped knuckles, the gritty ash from his face ...
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