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... er head throbbed like it had been cracked open and stitched back together wrong. The ceiling above was unfamiliar—wooden, cracked, smelling like dust and damp rot.

Where the hell am I?

She tried to sit up, and a jolt of pain lit up her back like a live wire. Her limbs were stiff, bruised in places she didn't even remember hitting. As she adjusted, something soft brushed her skin. Her brows furrowed.

Her clothes were different.

Gone was the blood-stained, torn-up s ...

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