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... re her. She grunted at me, eating her food in silence as I stood off to the side. I washed the dishes, trying to ignore the way her eyes stared at me, the way her nostrils flared as she walked closer to me.
"Why is that, you come home every day, and smell like a fucking mutt?" I stilled, scrubbing at a pan that once held pasta.
"He is my English partner mom, nothing else." I crumpled at the sudden pain on my lower back, the plate crashing and bursting into pieces.
I dropp ...
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