There was something about the Assata safe house that reminded Bitter of Eucalyptus and Miss Virtue, that spirit of a space that was designed for the lost ones, the abandoned ones, designed to hold them safe and tell them they never had to leave again. Bitter hadn’t expected to find this same vibe here, to find actual tenderness within Assata. She’d thought they were just about fighting on the front lines, that their home space would be full of loud debates and decrying, but instead it was simply a bunch of tired kids climbing onto soft furniture, holding their mugs of tea and telling Miss
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