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PREVIEW
... plasterwork—the luxurious ceiling of the bedroom.
A soft, pained sound escapes my lips.
Ahhh...
I lie still, blinking slowly, trying to coax the world into focus. My body feels like it’s been drained of all its substance, leaving only a heavy, aching weakness behind.
I stare upward, blinking at the gilded cherubs and swirling patterns, as if the answers might be written there.
Then, a voice. Gentle, saturated with worry.
"Zyren? How are you feelin ...
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