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... ce?"

Kathrine pressed her fingers against her temples, her voice low but strained. "I clearly remember saying he was the one who took me into that room. I said it. I know I did."

The harder she tried to focus, the worse it became.

Her head throbbed painfully, a sharp pressure building behind her eyes as if her mind itself were pushing back. Every time she reached for the memory, it slipped through her grasp like smoke. Not blank—never blank—but blurred, distorted, unfinis ...

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