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... d try to hold him back, but even through the thick car window glass, he still heard her tender voice ask the question,
"Daddy, will you still come to visit me?"
She was so naive, standing outside the car door, looking up with her pale little face and struggling to pose the question.
The wound on Qin Yinyin’s head was sticky; it must have been torn open again when she touched it in the car, picking at the scab that had formed. It spread across the top of her head, a dark b ...
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