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... r eyes looked vacantly at the familiar silhouette going between the tables back and forth. The water was bubbling, the utensils were clinking, and her mother was dicing the garlic cloves.


Despite what others had said about her, she was my mother, my beloved mother…


It still felt like a dream that a gentle and caring person like her would commit such a crime…


“There you go, sweetie. I made you some sweet and sour pork, clear noodles with dried chillies.”


“T ...

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