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Chapter 69

  • The cabin was a miracle.
  • A small, stupid, and utterly beautiful miracle in the heart of a forest made of knives. We stumbled out of the glittering, crystalline trees, our bodies a roadmap of a thousand small cuts, our suits in tatters, our souls scraped raw.
  • And there it was. A single-story ranger cabin, its wooden walls weathered but solid, its roof intact, a thin curl of long-dead smoke rising from its stone chimney.
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