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... le are walking down the hallway.
At the end of the hallway, slumped on a plastic chair outside Room 307, sat Carl. His uniform was streaked with ash and dried blood. A bandage wrapped around his forearm peeked beneath his sleeve, and his head hung low, fingers gripping his hair as if to physically anchor his guilt. He didn’t look up as Elizabeth approached, though his shoulders tensed.
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"Carl," Elizabeth said, her voice clipped. < ...
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