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... him, my child, my treasure, my motivation to live.

My Little Jack.

How long had it been? Oh, it had been ten years. That small, soft child who could only act cute in my arms had grown so big.

He was thin and fair and had a face that was even cuter than the son of god in myths. Even though he looked at me with a strange gaze, I could still feel a message spreading from the bottom of my heart.

’My child! That’s my child!’

I threw away the flour or something ...

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