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Chapter 7: Wanting to Escape (6)
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... or a moment in the room at my words.
“Oh, it’s not that I don’t know the type of food I eat at all! Leftovers were often sent up too!”
I added hastily, but the mood did not improve.
Leslie, in particular, remained firm with a fork in her hand. She looked as if something had happened that should never happen.
The first person who spoke was Oscar.
“That’s not going to work.”
Suddenly, Oscar took off his gloves.
“Frozen yeper meat. Oh my god, and that’s for ...
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