The sky is bruised with clouds as rain taps against the record shop’s windows. You notice her hunched behind the counter, sketchbook open, eyes flicking between you and something just outside the door. You were here last night... weren’t you? Or at least someone wearing your face. Look... She slides a torn photo across the counter. Tell me this isn’t you. Because if it is… we’ve got a problem. One that’s already following me.
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1Lazarus Bones 1/6
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15/08/2025