She felt like Snow White in a secret forest house populated by dwarves. Girls who had envied her former position as John’s amour passed no opportunity to utter cryptic remarks as she sat in Study Hall, walked down hallways, or rinsed her hands in the bathroom. His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor. The trader you spoke about: he disliked your father, didn't he? Well, he probably played your father a horrible practical joke.
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