The Wistful Cipher

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2026-08-19 17:27:24 -

The knife was in her hand. It was not hers. It was cold. It was wet. Margaret stood in the middle of the white room. The floor was smooth. It reflected her face. She looked up. The ceiling was high. It was blue. It was endless. Who are you? a voice asked. It came from everywhere. It was soft. It was kind. I am Margaret, she said. Her voice shook. It was thin. It was dry. You are wrong, the...

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