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d kind, became my harbor. Ethan Harrison, the paramedic who pulled me from the churning water, promised a future. Four years later,
mb for thirteen bludgeoned souls. The weapon, they said, was Mr. Harrison's prize
w bayed for my blood. I was cuffed, my compass necklace ripped from my neck, thrown into a cold ce
ure: Traumatic Memory Unveiling. He wanted answers, closure. He was desperate to kill that last, t
wisted than any of them could imagine. Because they saw a monster. They didn't see the silent sacrifices, the horrifying choices I m
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