“Like . . . you know, what would they do to me? Because I’ve heard some weird things in my time. Like, this one girl who lived in South Beach was once kidnapped by a drug dealer, strapped to a chair in an empty warehouse, and she was tickled with feathers every hour on the hour. Like . . . that’s some real freaky shit. Or are we talking about a normal kidnapping?” I blink a few times. She’s unlike any person I’ve ever met. “Do you want us to prepare you for tickle torture?” “Wouldn’t hurt.” She taps the table with her finger. “Add it to the list.” She lets out a deep breath. “Well, I’m glad I
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