When we got home, Mom gently laid me down on my bed and carefully wiped the dirt and blood from my face. She changed me into clean clothes, every movement unbelievably gentle, as if I were only asleep and could wake up at any moment.She sat at the edge of my bed, holding my hand tightly. She stared fixedly at me, and soon, her tears started falling again.She didn't eat, drink, or rest. She just sat there beside my bed, holding my hand as she repeatedly apologized and talked to me nonstop.She brought up little things from when I was a kid, like the first time I learned to walk, the first time I called her "Mom", and all the moments she used to overlook. Her voice was full of regret and self-reproach.Mom pulled the blanket up over me, gently smoothed my hair, and whispered, "Penelope, I used to treat you so badly. I'm sorry… Give me one more chance, okay? I'll make it up to you and love you the right way this time. I'll never let you suffer again…"But no matter what she said, n
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