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more mercy than you gave him,” Sophie said.
“I know,” Marisol whispered.
The room quieted.
For years, the sisters had carried their mother like a blank space. Now she sat before them, not grand enough to explain the wound, not wicked enough to make hatred simple. Just human. Flawed, proud, frightened, and far too late.
Ava stood and walked to the window.continue reading …
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