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... like it was being roasted from Ethan’s slap. Her ears started to ring and the lights above her hummed like insects feeding on her fear.
The strap pressed into her ribs so tightly that each breath felt like a battle lost before it even began.
Ethan who was standing before her and admired his work like a sculptor who believed pain was art.
Danielle’s pulse fluttered weakly. She wished she could hate him without shaking, wishing she could erase the fear stuck in her bones. ...
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