“You think I don't know where you go at night?” Sophia Denver, my so-called mother, screamed at the top of her lungs. “You think I'm stupid?” she spat, taking a menacing step forward. Strands of her red hair clung to the sweat on her face. I dropped my gaze to the cracked tile floor, not wanting to push her any further. Instead, I counted the thin dark lines running through the tiles the way other girls counted money. I learned early in life that it was better to be silent than argue. It cost me nothing. If I let her rant long enough, eventually she'd tire herself out and shut the hell up. “I'm working,” I finally said, my voice calm and flat, because giving her more words only gave her more weapons. “Well, it's not enough. You're just too ugly to attract men with hard cash.” Sophia stepped even closer. God, she smelled awful. Cheap perfume mixed with stale alcohol and cigarettes. It was enough to turn my stomach. “I know you don't care if I sell my body for a few dollars,” I sho
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