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hospital gown twisted around me. Blood spotted the tape where the IV had been.
I looked like a victim.
I did not feel like one.
A soft knock came from the other side of the bathroom’s second door—the one leading into a small supply alcove.
“Mommy,” Quincy whispered.
I opened it.
He slipped inside, eyes huge, hands clenched around his backpack straps.
“She’s continue reading …
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