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ork in robotics to build a bionic
my temper. She never threw tantrums, never
n, had no idea she w
provoke me, he constantly brought women home, desperately
ho had once walked out on him-threw a c
ly did I not scream in pain, bu
lized that I w
pte
e's
iquid splashed
the dark coffee d
amatically covering her mouth in feigned horror.
n's college sweetheart, the irrep
y welled up with tears. "Chloe, don't glare at me like
His face was twisted in disgust,
sycho," he snapped. "It's just a cup of coffee. It's not
hite dress, now ruined by a massive brown stain. It was glaringly obvio
d. "Cut the act and go upstairs
to scream, to point fingers, or at the very le
bullying today had c
h of silence, "I" gave
ace flushing red. "Chloe! I told you to go upstai
t his sleeve. "Ethan, don't yell at her.
ase. Her skin is thicker than a brick wall. Even if you
ing water were thrown in "
exact face, wasn't me. It was a cutting-edge bionic andr
died of cancer
I took my last breath, my c
android. But I was merely a passenger, c
the ultimate directive of being the "perfect, submissive wife." For three years, she had
d her hardware was
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