At the end of a row of boxes to her left, she could see a faint line of light. It must be a door. She wanted to leave, needed to get out of here, but didn't want to leave the way she came in. She knew that the crowd of the street, however disinterested they were in her, offered more protection. This place was a trap. She felt her way past the boxes. It was a door. She put her ear to hear the outside world. People were walking past, cars manuevering around the corners. Her hand was on the knob, she took a deep breath and . . .
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