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... turning the water scalding hot.

Scrub. Scrub. Scrub.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't wash him away. His touch was still there, clinging to my skin like a stain I'd never be able to scrub clean. The hotter the water, the harder I rubbed, until my skin turned raw, burning. But it didn't matter. He was still there.

The filth was inside me. No amount of soap, no temperature, could burn it away.

I stepped out, gripping the sink, forcing myself to breathe. My gaz ...

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