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... persistent throb that felt like a hangover amplified by a thousand.
Then came the unfamiliar scent – a mix of stale wood, something vaguely metallic, and an undertone of damp earth. My eyelids felt heavy, glued shut, but I forced them open.
Light, filtered through a small, grimy window. I blinked, trying to clear the fog from my brain. This wasn’t my apartment. My ceiling was white, popcorn-textured, with a fan that wobbled slightly when it spun. This ceiling was rough-hewn timb ...
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