A nasty little smile finds Dottie’s little green eyes. “Because it’s the truth.” And a question that’s been nagging at Mary Pat for a while—maybe her whole life, who knows?—finds her tongue. “It’s your truth too, though, ain’t it?” A few of the girls make audible noises, something between gasps and moans. “What’d you fucking say?” Dottie asks. “Aren’t you from a broken home? Didn’t your husband fuck around and then leave you to raise the kids by yourself? I’ve noticed the people who bitch most about the coloreds and their bad qualities, they usually have those qualities themselves. I mean,
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