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his free hand—the one that wasn’t holding my crying newborn—, he hit.
His palm slammed into my cheek. My head fell back against the pillows. The room spun. The taste of copper filled my mouth where I’d bitten my tongue.
“You insolent brat!” she roared, her face twisted and ugly. “I’m her grandmother! I have the right to decide where she goes! You’re continue reading …
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