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No more Christmas.
My anger is returning.
The thought of waking him terrified me.
I’m going to die in here.
You can’t murder the shtriga.
I don’t know where I am.
I don’t deserve to be free.
I listened, ready to move when he moved.
I imagined the life leaving William’s eyes.
They’re cattle, I thought. Dumb, penned-in cattle.
