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“The soft glow of the fairy lights in her room, the way her arm warmers covered the bandages on her wrists. She had made them herself, tiny stitches woven into the fabric like a secret, a small act of care for a body she was learning to hate.” — Arabella Sveinsdottir
The soft glow of the fairy lights in her room, the way her arm warmers covered the bandages on her wrists. She had made them herself, tiny stitches woven into the fabric like a secret, a small act of care for a body she was learning to hate.