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Today she felt especially comforted by the books that climbed the walls. They were a reminder that any knowledge she desired was hers for the asking.
Everything had begun with such promise. And then, like a windshield chipped by a tiny pebble, the chip turned into deep cracks that spread until there was nothing left to repair.
His weapons were kindness, attention, and compassion—and when victory was assured, he discarded them like spent casings, and his true nature emerged.
Is there really such a thing as too much empathy?
