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Chapter 55: Memoir: The Man She Saved
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Chapter 57: The Storyteller
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... rebels’ stronghold.
Not dark like a city blackout or drawn heavy curtains.
This was a different kind of darkness—the kind that erased streets, names, and the idea that anyone would come looking.
The trees arched high above them like the ribs of a ruined cathedral, their branches locking together so tight that even the moon had to fight for scraps of light.
Insects shrieked in the dark like faulty alarms. Something slithered through underbrush. Something else snapp ...
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