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She walked into the bathroom and turned on both taps at full blast and sat down on the edge of the bath and cried. For the baby she didn’t know and for the memory she didn’t have of a girl standing at the clothesline in a suburban backyard, a plastic clothes peg in her mouth and tears running down her face. She’d bet she didn’t stop pegging those clothes for even a second.
It was always like that. They never said sorry. They just threw down their still-loaded weapons, ready for next time.
