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I stand before the man who has done nothing but use me, lie to me, manipulate me, threaten me, and abuse me for over ten years. I look at him, and hate looks with me. He flinches as I lift my hand and place it against his cheek, letting the ruined strip of my ribbon brush against his skin. I lean in close so that my voice can heat his face, so that he can look me in the eye and see the fury searing my vision. “You can’t cut off the strings of your puppet and still expect it to move for you.”
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