(God, Abby feels like dirt. She has the sudden urge to hide behind something even though she's sitting in her room, on her bed, legs crossed, crystal in her lap. The worst part is that he's totally right, about everything. There's no room for any righteous indignation.
Hard to sort out the sentimentality from the telling off; later she'll thank him for it. For now she says, clear and steady,) Got it.
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Hard to sort out the sentimentality from the telling off; later she'll thank him for it. For now she says, clear and steady,) Got it.
I'll talk to you later.