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FOURTY TWO

“Don’t you hate me for what I’ve done to you? Don’t you hate me for making you almost…” He couldn’t say the words, but his eyes locked onto hers, his gaze pleading her to understand.

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Hate you?” she asked, her voice filled with disbelief. “No, of course I don’t hate you. Why would you think that?”

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