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Chapter 5: Coming Back to School To steal {2}
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... my face.
"What a fucking bastard," I muttered under my breath, teeth clenched.
That punch had come out of nowhere—but then again, it wasn’t unusual. In this school, I was more well-known as the campus
punching bag than an actual student. Kicked, slapped, tripped—it had all become routine. A living joke. A canvas for others to paint their cruelty on.
Around us, attention shifted. Whispers ignited like wildfire. Some were mocking, others indifferent. No one cared en ...
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