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“Bishop!” Noah called after him. “You need to let sleeping dogs lie.” Bishop paused. He glanced back at Noah, his hands still balled into fists. Emotion flickered across his face—a smoldering anger. “Who says they’re sleeping?”
Hannah had suffered and lost too much not to live free. She knew what oppression looked like. Chains weren’t always visible. She wouldn’t go back to that. She wouldn’t raise her children in bondage.