“Let go of me, you crazy bitch!” Sam yelled now, finally shaking her off him, and cradling his wounded arm, from which blood trickled slowly from where she had sunk her teeth into his flesh.“You killed Amy!” Sandra spat at Sam now, the sight of his sickly, pale, and crazy face in the glare of the lamp disgusting her more than she had ever thought possible.“Huh?”“You killed my daughter, and I will rather die than let you kill my son too.”“Ah! But if memory serves me right, you were the one who killed Amy. I will never kill my blood, you know, which is more than I can say for some people.” Sam mocked.“It was a mistake. It was a fucking mistake, and if you hadn’t been such a bastard that night, none of it would have happened.” Sandra cried, guilt overwhelming her.“Are you sure about that, Sandra? I mean, maybe she was disturbing your sweet, sweet sleep, which you were so eager to get back to that you threw her down the stairs. I saw you, you know.” Sam said. Sandra let him drone on
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