The burning pain in her legs was so sharp that Lucy could barely breathe. The hot stew had soaked through her thin pajama pants, leaving angry red patches across her thighs while Evelyn stood over her with the empty pot still in her hands. Mark did not rush for towels, did not call 911, did not even look shocked. Instead, he slapped Lucy across the face and told her to apologize to his mother, as if the woman on the floor was the one who had crossed a line.
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