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... grit and the scent of rusted metal through the half-shattered greenhouse crowning the old tower block.
In the makeshift lounge, an old mattress and a tangle of wooly blankets, Felicity’s laughter high, wild, just on the edge of terrified spilled out like a dare to the city below.
From his corner, Voss watched it all.
The glass wall was a deliberate cruelty: nothing but a smoke dark sky, a fractal of broken neon, and the show inside. Victor had dragged her here, hand gripp ...
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