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Chapter 267: Patterns
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Chapter 269: How the mighty have fallen 2
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... lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, watching the shadows shift as the hours crawled by. My cheek still burned where Mother had slapped me. My hands throbbed beneath the bandages. But those pains were nothing compared to the rage coiling in my chest like a living thing.
A prisoner. In my own room. In my own pack house.
The absurdity of it should have made me laugh, but I couldn’t find anything funny about it. Not when every breath felt like swallowing glass. Not when Baruch’s f ...
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