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Chapter 139: The Weight of Rest and War
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Chapter 141: The Ink Must Flow
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... ry tore from my throat as I clutched the mangled stump where my left arm had once been. Blood poured in thick, hot rivers, soaking through my sleeve and down my side. My knees buckled. The world swayed.
"No," I hissed through clenched teeth. "Not here. Not now."
I dropped to one knee and yanked off my coat with trembling fingers. It was coarse and thick—old wool—and all I had. I wadded it up and pressed it hard against the wound, my vision speckling with white as fresh agony lanc ...
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