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“I’m sorry, Belois.”
Her mother lay sick and wet in the rain, holding her daughter in her arms.
She was crying and repeating the same words over and over again.
“Your mother gave birth to Belois in such a weak manner because she was ugly. You are like this because I couldn’t do anything.
“Mom, I’m okay…”
“Sorry. I’m so sorry, Belois…”
“Don’t cry, mom. I’m really okay…”
Life was in pain. Happiness had always belonged to oth ...
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