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... es I rinse with water. My stomach churns at the memory of its murky green color and the way it slides down my throat like sludge. Every time they bring it, I gag, but Dr. Reeves watches until I finish every drop.
Time blurs. Sleep. Wake. Examination. Soup. Sleep again. The purple lines that traced my veins like toxic rivers slowly fade, along with the bone-deep ache that made even breathing hurt.
A tickle on my nose pulls me from another drug-induced nap. I blink, then freeze. A ...
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