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"Now she's gone, my heart with her, how am I meant to love the baby? She took everything from me when she left me! I can't see for the darkness, can't hear for the silence, can't speak for the fact she can never hear my words! How am I meant to go about, day by day, when my daughter, her living replica, rips out my heart by simply standing there?"
In Life there is only Wind and Smoke
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