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Chapter 2: Freedom in fifteen minutes
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... t cry.
My father’s belt lashed across my body countless times—my ribs, my face, the soft places that wouldn’t show when I am presented to Darian Blackmoor like a prize mare at auction.
I’d learned to cry on command, to break just enough to satisfy his rage while keeping the pieces of myself where he couldn’t reach them.
But today, when his knuckles split the skin across my cheekbone and the familiar taste of blood filled my mouth, something inside me died.
No tear ...
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