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everyone.”
I stopped in the hallway, my heart skipping.
What did that mean?
I didn’t ask.
I never asked.
In that house, questions weren’t welcome.
Then there was the bruise.
I was helping Arthur change his shirt when I noticed it—dark purple, deep, unmistakable.
On his arm.
“How did this happen?” I asked, alarmed. “Did someone hurt you?”
His reaction froze me.continue reading …
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