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Chapter 80: Ungrateful
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Chapter 82: Worse Than Death
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... ge a couple of hours of sleep, tossing and turning as if I’m being prickled by sharp needles; as if I’m wrapped in sandpaper and glass.
My body aches from both the shift and the last night’s fight—limbs sore, back still burning with wounds that haven’t yet healed. My head is a muddled mess of thoughts, frustration spiraling through my mind like wild, spinning tops.
And it doesn’t help that now, instead of one voice in my head, I have two—constantly circling, clashing, carouseling ...
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