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... face paled. "You’re bluffing," he muttered, but his voice cracked, his confidence crumbling like ash in the wind. His eyes darted between Angela and me, searching for any sign of weakness, any hint that this was all some twisted joke. But he found none.

Before he could react, I moved.

In a single, fluid motion, I lunged forward and wrenched the rifle from his hands. His finger twitched on the trigger in panic, and a shot rang out—directly at my face.

The bullet struck me ...

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