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Noises were everywhere in this shadowy place—the clang of iron-barred doors being opened and closed, the disgruntled voices and shrill-pitched shouts of teenaged gang members, the heavy thud of footsteps on the stone floor Every sound hter on the dirty bed
This place is gonna seem like a picnic, little lady, if they send you to the main ward
The social worker’s words caain She couldn’t help thinking of her bed at ho and covered in Laura Ashley sheets
“I love ha the tears well again, clogging her throat and stinging her eyes
What had made her act like such a bitch around her mother? Lina kne hard her y sweats, the lack of ht smile that tried to mask a sharp desperation in her mom’s eyes
Yeah, she knew her mom loved her, knew she only wanted to do the very best for Lina So why couldn’t Lina cut her sory all day? Sometimes she knehy she was mad, but more often than not, she couldn’t place a cause She just wasn’t happy Sos she felt fat, the next day she’d think she was skinny Half the ti few no reason at all
She wanted everything to be like it used to be She didn’t want to feel so ugly and lost all the time She wanted to fit in somewhere
She knew she was a disappointy who’d earned her high school diploma before she turned fifteen Saint Madelaine, who never had a hair out of place, who raised a daughter alone while she attended medical school, who never lost her temper or cried or asked for help from anyone
“I’ll never shoplift again, God,” she whispered brokenly, squeezing her eyes shut against a fresh wave of tears
Suddenly the door of her dorled in the lock, clicked hard, and the door screeched open
“Hillyard, get up”
Lina rolled to face the door and lurched to her feet, her heart pounding with sudden anxiety “Where a?”
The fat, polyester-clad woave her a deadpan look “Do I look like a tour director?” She cocked her head down the corridor “Get going”
Lina hugged herself tightly and eased past the wo her eyes down
Finally they came to another locked door The woman pushed the interco voice