The bar top stretches across the back wall, long and sticky, with a giant mirror running the length of it. Its cracked reflection offers patrons a view of the entire establishment.
“There’s nowhere to hide here.” A thought cuts through me, sharp and unfamiliar, like it doesn’t belong. It’s my voice, but not mine—too distinct, too foreign. I freeze, listening, as if the echo inside my head might say something again.
This is not a place for secrets.
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