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Chapter 292: These are not isolated events. These are rehearsals.
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... ar the Daugava River, hidden between a shuttered bakery and a government office painted in Soviet grays, three people gathered in the cellar as dusk crept in.
There were no passwords.
No secret knocks.
Only shared glances and the quiet acceptance that each person entering was now bound to something they might not live to see succeed.
Elza, the shop’s owner, lit a lantern with steady hands.
She was older mid-forties with deep lines across her face and an ev ...
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