
The rain in the Dehradun hills did not fall; it attacked. It lashed against the ancient pine trees, turning the forest floor into a treacherous, slipping nightmare.
Amyra stumbled through the mud, her breath coming in ragged, painful gasps—Her clothes were soaked, sticking to her trembling, plush curves. Her ankle throbbed with every step, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the frantic, blinding terror in her mind.



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