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Forcing Reconnections

“Let me help you with that, Harper.”

Mrs. Keevah came fresh from the bathroom. A white towel was wrapped around her head to dry her hair. She placed the toothbrush she was holding to the small cup-like holder back in the bathroom, wiped her palms with the other towel wrapped around her body and rushed to grab the small pail of water Harper was carrying around.

“I got this, Mrs. Keevah.”

Another month has passed and her stomach swelled bigger. Who would’ve thought that was still possible. Every time Harper looks in the mirror, she couldn’t help but compare herself to an inflated balloon. Anytime, she’s gonna explode. And with it, she’s not going to be the same person she was. One will become two.

Mrs. Keevah was insistent until Harper let go of the pail handle. The woman knows the 7th to 9th months are the most sensitive ones. If she can, she would rather let Harper stay the whole day on the bed rather than lift a fork. She was that hands-on with her, bordering the line to being prote
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