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My assumption was that Henry was being a bit dramatic.
I ignored the bowl of oatmeal and spent most of my time scouring every inch of the basement, trying to find a way out. I did not try to pace myself, I figured it was only a matter of time before he would walk down the stairs with a new bowl of food.
I was wrong.
A few hours passed and my stomach growled loudly. My limbs ached from exhaustion, and every step felt like torture, but I glanced at the white doo ...
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