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CHAPTER THIRTEEN-CHARLY
With the smell of disinfectant and James’ stale cigars wrapped around her head like a plastic bag stifling her of all the fresh air that exists, Mory gasped short, shallow breaths as she stumbled through the hall.
Stopping at the bathroom door, Mory looked up and down both sides of the hall and bounced quickly as she tried to decide what to do. “You have to go to the bathroom sometime. Just get it over with.”
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