Mom required our home to be completely free of dust and water stains. We had to wash our hands three times using the seven-step technique, and we had to strip and disinfect ourselves before entering the house. Even the trash can had to stay completely empty.Once she started cleaning, she wouldn't stop for hours.I grew frantic and shouted, "Mom, stop cleaning! Grayson will be back in five hours! Once he returns, you'll never be able to save me."Unfortunately, no matter how loudly I yelled, Mom stayed busy with her chores over there.After a while, I heard her grumbling in confusion, "What is this junk in the sink? It's stuck, and I can't pull it out."My eyes lit up instantly. That wasn't junk; those were my fingers that Grayson Moore had snapped off by force. Before killing me, he had chopped them into pieces with a kitchen knife right before my eyes and flushed them down the drain just to break my spirit.Mom was a doctor, so she would definitely be able to tell that those we
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