Louise rolled her shoulders back, hitched up her skirt and lifted her bag, ready to begin a new life. He had tried to break her heart, her spirit, her neck, but he couldn’t hurt her any more. A fresh bruise was blooming against her cheek, her dress was spattered with blood, and her feet would blister later. He had burned her shoes along with everything else.
She shifted the bag to her other hand. It was heavier than she expected.
“You always were such a fathead Billy”.
She didn’t notice the dark trail of red that followed her.
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