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Liborio Fragale

In Ronaldton, the door to a dark cell creaked closed and slammed. The girl dropped to her knees and touched her bruised cheek. The questions had gotten heated, with named being tossed around the room. One was vaguely familiar, but she wasn’t about to reveal why. These ninjas deserved their privacy, and she would do her best to preserve that privacy; after all, her mother had raised her better than what these men thought.

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