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Could a child be born bad? And if so—if there really was such a thing as a bad seed—could you turn them good?
Janie’s narrative was all about redemption. How she’d been rescued by the Bauers when they thought they could help her, but how they’d thrown her away when they didn’t think they could fix her. That’s when she’d gone through her darkest hours, and it was in that place that she’d discovered the strength she needed to be her own savior. Or so she said.
“You snipped off your roommate’s earlobe with a nail clipper, and you crushed another resident behind the washing machine, breaking three of their ribs and collapsing their lung.”
Snipping off your own earlobe first so no one would suspect you of hurting your roommate was cunning.
The conditions of his plea bargain were that he have no contact with her, and he wouldn’t risk it. Not after how hard he’d worked to keep his medical license after the trial.
She stared at her hands clasped on the knife, and a wicked grin slowly covered her face. Pain—even her own—excited her.