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“Please, arrest me. I’d rather go to jail than go back to that house…”

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for the inevitable, violent blow to strike his back.

My heart fractured in my chest, a physical ache that stole my breath. I didn’t yell. I didn’t gasp. I knelt down slowly, entirely ignoring the sharp fragments of broken glass actively digging through the denim of my jeans and biting into my knees. I moved into his line of sight and gently, firmly continue reading …

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