This city, her mother had often said, is going to try to steal the good out of you, Io. But you’re not going to let it, are you? As a child, Io had always promised she wouldn’t. But then she had grown and had had to work and pay rent and bills and groceries, and she realized . . . All these people like her, the other-born and the immigrants and the lower-class who no one would hire, they didn’t let the good get stolen from them, did they? It got nicked little by little, every time they were fired with no back pay, or their apartment application was denied for no reason, or they got looks of
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