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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.
I think I can hear them coming.
It’s only a matter of time.
No one is exempt from punishment.
I lay on the grave of my mother.