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But I say this so that you understand what I was up against: that I was worth more to her sick than I was well.
The American health system lol
in the torchlight, he wondered at the marks on me, the red around my neck, and the purple on my arms and chest where he had gripped me. He rubbed at them, as though they were stains, not bruises. “The color is perfect,” he said, “look.” And he held up the mirror so I could see. “You make the rarest canvas, love.”
Oh man. GUT PUNCH.
