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Chapter 29: Closed Up
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Chapter 31: Imagination
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... she worked. The way she handled the knife was precise, almost aggressive, as if she were taking out her frustrations on the carrots. Every few seconds, I felt her gaze flicker toward my wrists—looking for something she would never find.
I suppressed a smirk. Yesterday, I had gone to great lengths to acquire a specialized waterproof concealer, a high-grade formula used by undercover operatives. My tattoo was buried under layers of flesh-toned pigment that wouldn’t budge unless I used the ...
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