Iris moved through the thick fog, heart racing. The cursed film had been her only lead—sent in handwriting that looked like his, six years after he vanished. Was it from him… or his captors? Then she saw him—collapsed, pale, barely breathing. “No… please,” she choked, falling to her knees. “It’s me, Iris. I found you.” Her hands shook as she touched his cold face. “Please wake up… I came for you…” His chest rose so faintly, she feared she was already too late.
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