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... door. Down in the kitchens, her mother and Gretta and all the other servants would be gathering around the table for breakfast. There was an empty chair waiting for her, but right now Liv felt sick, and the scent of fried bacon wafting up from below nearly made her run back to the privy.

It wasn’t the first time she’d overheard someone saying something so mean about her mother - or about her. That word, bastard, she’d been hearing it for as long as she could remember. Often, Liv wondere ...

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