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I try to turn my attention elsewhere, focusing on the shackles around my wrists. I should have paid better attention to my surroundings-- maybe I could have found something to pick the locks with.
"Are you ready to give us some answers?" The voice called.
I know that voice, but when I try to place it, I have only a faint memory of the wharf, down past the tourist section.
"Over my dead body," I shouted and gave a sturdy kick to their shin.



i'll start...
I feel the serrated edge brush against my neck and I hold back a cry of pain.