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I am still haunted by nightmares. The brand etched into my face no longer aches, yet the sordid dreams return, gnawing at the marrow of my mind. Cold sweat beads on my skin, and no matter how long I sleep, I wake with a leaden fatigue that refuses to lift. All I can do is cry out in silence, a soundless scream swallowed by the void.
…And yet, over and over, I find myself grasping for Maroni’s name.
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That damn bats barging in like he owns the place... it’s enough to make my head spin. Pay for the window. All those fancy gadgets? He’s got the cash to burn, no doubt. So, he can spare a few bills for a donation.
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