a series of nights that made my skin crawl, he p
id, already turning his atte
f his study, my steps echoing in the grand, empty hallway. The first thing I did was lea
smelled of boiled cabbage and despair. The landlord, a man with a gr
an hour ago. Said she
th overflowing trash cans. The air
ere sh
e. The beautiful, sapphire-blue cloche hat lay in a puddle of muddy water beside he
open, starin
stomach. I wanted to show it to her, to scream at her, to ask her if it we. It hadn't brought me anything but pain. It was a curse. And I knew, wi
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