” Her father’s irony deepened. I can't concentrate on my work. Put on that new dress—the one that's all white. “Am I hurting you?” She asked. They went into Michelle's tiny bedroom, bare except for a dresser, a closet, and a miniscule single bed that resembled her own at the Becks. She trembled; but she did not know why. Her husband stared at her over the candle flame. I was always told my mother died the day I was born.
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