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Seven

11:31 PM, Wednesday, March 20th, 2013

The feeling of cool comfort on her forehead was the first sensation to pierce the warm comfort of oblivion that Gabriella had retreated into. The second was the sound of voices. A soothing babble washing over her, and she bobbed in the slow moving stream of conversation that caressed her ears as it swept past. Slowly, however, words froze into sentences, and sentences gelled into concepts.

“... barely holding at the first security door.”

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