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... ooden floor creaked under his weight as he crossed to the open window and looked out over the camp. The early mist had settled like a blanket across the treetops, veiling the world in softness that belied the fear coiling in his gut. What had happened last night wasn’t a shared dream or hallucination. Something had *spoken* through them. It had used their bodies, their voices. And it had known things only he should know.
His palms still itched where he had touched Stella’s shoulders, rem ...
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