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Chapter 1: The Day I Died
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Chapter 3: Blood in the Palm
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... ly succeeded in propping himself up. His shoulders throbbed, his thighs hurt with each movement, and his wrists seemed as if nails had been driven through the joints. He rotated gradually in bed, his arms quivering, and stretched towards the jug next to his table. Half of it dripped onto his chest before he could bring it to his lips.
He did not swear. Didn't complain.
He simply inhaled.
The pain indicated that yesterday was not a dream.
That idea encouraged him t ...
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