Emily

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But the sounds in the walls were growing bolder. Louder. Sometimes, if Harland pressed his ear against the cold steel, he could hear it far too clearly: broken fingernails digging at the metal, seeking a way out. He wondered if those clawing hands had left scars just out of sight, on the other side of the metal. The fingers must have been scored and worn, skin cracking, blood seeping—
From Below
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