Ruth Ann

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saw her frown. She swiped at the ground again. ‘All this time, ’ she said, without looking at me, ‘I thought you must hate us slightly, my mother, my brother, and I. ’ I said, astonished, ‘Hate you?’ ‘Yes, on your parents’ behalf. But now it sounds almost as though—well, as though you hate yourself.
The Little Stranger
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