Bryn Greenwood

Bryn Greenwood

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“I broke everything that made me happy,” I tried to say, but I had to press my hands against my eyes to stop the flood.
Still, I liked to pet his feet with mine. Touch his hands with mine. Rub my cheek against his. I liked how we were different, but the same.
Now I understood what Mama’s hot, scary eyes meant when she danced with Uncle Sean. They meant everything was broken.
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