I wanted to laugh, but my lips wouldn't move.I tried to reply to Lauren, but my fingers were so frozen I couldn't even tap the screen.My consciousness started to blur.In a daze, it felt like I'd been thrown back into those years overseas.That place was chaotic but somehow full of life.When I was five, I was kidnapped and trafficked. I was passed from hand to hand until I ended up near the border.It was Titus Anderson who dug me out of a pile of corpses.He despised how filthy I was, but still gave me half a ration bar.Titus, also known as Hawk, was a man of few words. He was also one of the best sharpshooters in the world.He taught me how to assemble a Glock in three seconds.He used to say that a gun was a man's partner. They were more reliable than people.My foster mother, Freya Anderson, was an elegant lunatic.Code-named T.N.T., she taught me how to turn ordinary cleaning products into liquid explosives. She'd always say, "If someone messes with you, blow them
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