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I'm laid on the table. The fire in the hearth flickers behind her. It reflects off the sharp, silver edges of the instrument.
Her hand trembles. A bead of sweat rolls down my forehead.
I flex my bare foot.
I grit my teeth.
"Do it."
She hesitates.
"Do it."
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Sister | A Cinderella Retelling
FantasyShe picks up the pliers. "This is going to hurt." --- A feminist Cinderella retelling
