[There is a strained, stricken cry, born of something that seems more rage than sorrow. It's followed by a muddled crash of metal and shattering crockery. The din ebbs to the fractured rhythm of labored breathing, trails off into a solid moment of silence that is punctuated by one ragged sob. It is a long, long moment before she speaks, and then it
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...we haven't found everyone yet?
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What a time for them to take more people away!
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Ingrates.
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