The deafening report froze time. Books; an inexplicable hunger to be satisfied. Come in! Come in, do. She wished her father and aunt would not enjoy their dinner with such quiet determination. My mother died the day I was born; that’s what they tell me. She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up. She had set out to get a beautiful life, a free, untrammelled life, self-development, without counting the cost either for herself or others.
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