Floral Faith newspaper #9 | Page 12

And then it hit me. The smell from the book, as I remembered, had the same smell coming from room #44.

I ran outside, back to the spot where I got attack, but the last thing I could remember was the blackness covering my eyes, and my brain shutting down; I had inhaled too much of the poisonous green smoke from the book.

I woke up by bright daylight, only to see my disguise had been coming off. I prayed to the twelve that no-one had seen my real identity, which I guess only one person could have seen.

The one that had laid me down on the couch inside the mansion while I was unconscious….

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