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Chapter 8

AALIYAH

Saying the pack house is wonderful does not do this work of art justice. Plays in front of me are memories from my childhood. I had enjoyed these luxuries, including a large mansion, servants at my beck and call, and nannies who catered to my every need. But now? It is significantly worse than the opposite.

One of the guards commands, "Stop!" With his emotionless countenance and taller stature than the others, you could never guess what he is up to. He appears to be partially distorted because of his high cheekbones even though he is exactly human.

"Boney," I managed a sick joke, after everything I have been through, it comforts me for some strange

reasons.

"Step forward," he commands in a stern voice. A pale and sickly-appearing girl steps forward; she was the one who had ignored me earlier in the caravan.

"Hands up," Boney commands, after careful consideration. Like a puppet, she raises both arms; disobedience is the least stunt she could pull, for a fragile figure li
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