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The Breaking Point
The alarm at 4:30 a.m. wasn’t a wake-up call; it was a battle cry. Madeline Carter sat up on a floor mattress in a room so cold her breath misted in the air. Beside her, 9-month-old Nora was a small, shivering bundle. The landlord had cut the heat weeks ago. Poverty wasn’t just a lack of money; it was a constant, predatory chill.
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