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Chapter 72: From Giggles to Gasping
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... link. I couldn’t.
My papa’s hands—those warm, gentle hands that always lifted me high in the air, tucked me into bed, and brushed my hair—were red.
So, so red.
The color dripped from his fingers and splashed onto the cold white floor like spilled paint. Except this wasn’t paint.
I knew that.
My breath hitched. My heart felt like it had slipped and fallen down a long, cold staircase inside my chest.
And before I could stop myself, my feet dashed for ...
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