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And with a foul grimace, she shuts her mouth and continues to climb. When she’s over the edge, I follow her. Before I reach the top, I can’t help but look over my shoulder and scan the horizon. In the distance, the fire blazes … and the hut that has my mother’s body in it is turned to soot.

I swallow away the lump in my throat as tears well up, but I push them back.

No time to cry. No time to feel sorry for myself.

My mother sacrificed herself so I could be free … so I could live.

“Thank you,” I whisper even though I know she can’t hear it. “I love you.”

And then I jump over the fence, grab Emmy’s hand, and run.

The end … for now!


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Tags: Clarissa Wild His Romance