

Sit, smile, eat. Leave everything to Maddox, nod along, play along. Dont worry about anything else. The intimate dining room feels suffocating, the only thing going round in your head the only one that shouldnt, because fuck if it doesnt make you dizzy and antsy and just all around ill at ease, and all these people—these politicians, doctors, the deputy fucking mayor of Adafield—with their hollow smiles and even emptier words just drive you further towards what you think is the edge of losing yo...

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