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... a holding my hand. I would explore the little corners, searching for some surprise, some adventure. Those were happy days for me, moments when I felt loved in some way.
Despite being just a maid, she was my best friend, the only one I had to talk to, have fun with, to live a little outside the small bubble that was my house, that cold house that always scared me at night.
I remember the garden, the colorful flowers that Monica tended to with so much care. I would always help her ...
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