Forgive me
she said.
“Honey, you won’t, you’ll just get faster to your dad, and now we need him, can you promise me, that you will listen to me?”
“I promise, Mommy,” she replied, once again turning to Emma, and then she started running.
Emma’s tears shaped her face, when she stretched out on cold earth in her spasm, feeling that she had no rotten strength in her until she saw the smoke parted, and a woman with black eyes, and black hair, approached her, and Emma knew, she’s a witch.
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