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... beside the bed, she pulled out scissors and started cutting out the self-portrait of me she held in her hand. She carefully trimmed around the image, cutting away the white background, almost as if extracting it like a nukki—an isolated subject.
"How does it look, Eun-ah? Did Mom do a good job?"
Her sudden question left me speechless. Her voice trembled ever so slightly, though she tried her best to hide it.
When I didn’t answer, she opened the frame sitting on the bed an ...
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