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Chapter 1: Coronation
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Chapter 3: Drunk
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... hatred. "Do you even know what this dress costs? Of course not. You wear rags."
Her words sliced through me sharper than the slap had. I didn’t respond. I stayed on my knees, my head bowed, my throat tight like I had swallowed thorns.
The red wine was soaking into the hem of my faded dress, spreading across the cheap fabric like shame. I didn’t dare move. The sting on my cheek still burned. My fingers trembled as I reached again, trying to dab the wine off her dress with the corn ...
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