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CHAPTER THIRTY ONE-GUILT

CIERRA

The walls are closing around me. The antique clock hanging on the wall of the entrance passageway is ticking too loud. It’s almost the same rhythm as my heartbeat.

Tick. Lub-dub. Tick. Lub-dub, Tick. Lub-dub… and it goes on and on, both sounds reminding me of the storm to come.

The paint...

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