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483: END OF HOPE

ARIEL'S POV "Are you really going to do this, Harriet?" I asked her, just trying to get things straight around here. "Do I look like I'm joking? Come on, that's a stupid question." She shook her head, triumphing all over her face. "Now, who's going to die first? "You or she?" Harriet's movements were deliberate as she shifted her gun's direction, tracing an ominous path between Luke and me with chilling precision. Each calculated gesture seemed to punctuate her newfound sense of control; her lips curled into a sinister smile that sent shivers down my spine. It was a smile devoid of humanity, fueled by the dark pleasure of holding our lives in her hands. With each subtle adjustment of the firearm, the weight of inevitability bore down upon us like a leaden cloak, suffocating any lingering hope of escape. The air crackled with strain, an energy that hung thickly at the moment. Every click of the gun's mechanism echoed like a death knell, a grim reminder of our fragile mortality.

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