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“Broken things belong in the trash, sweetheart.” Victoria Kane’s words cut through the first-class cabin of Platinum Airways Flight 847, harsh as broken glass. Her perfectly manicured fingers gripped custom titanium crutches, her designer uniform hugging every curve of her tall, statuesque frame.

With platinum blonde hair swept into an elegant chignon, she stood in the aircraft doorway, glaring down at the young black woman in 1A. Without a second thought, she dropped the crutches. They tumbled end over end, gleaming silver under the afternoon sun as they plummeted 20 feet to the concrete below.
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