was the same day she quit thinking about the world beyond the windowless cell. That world no longer existed. Not for her. Now there were just the plates of food that came at uneven intervals, eaten in darkness, without visual cues, her
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“a discomforting feeling like she was being watched consumed her. Troubled, she kept her eye on her destination and picked up the pace. The brittle winter air scratched against her skin like sandpaper, chilling her to the core. She pulled the scarf around her neck a bit tighter, burrowed her face into it, and kept going. Almost there.”
― Gone Daddy Gone
― Gone Daddy Gone
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