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Stone Cold Page 33
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Page 33
Made of bits.
Not quite human.
I’d never once in my life seen or heard of anyone—of any person—stitched like me.
Until this man. This stranger bleeding on my floor.
Stone Cold Page 33
Made of bits.
Not quite human.
I’d never once in my life seen or heard of anyone—of any person—stitched like me.
Until this man. This stranger bleeding on my floor.