Claire⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Claire Parker, sixteen-years-old... A dress was carelessly tossed my way, landing with a crumpled thud on the small, rickety bed. It was a piece of tattered fabric, hardly suitable for anything decent, let alone wearing. "Put that on," my uncle Tony ordered in his gruff, unforgiving tone. "I've got a guy coming over to collect on his debt, and you're going to pay it back."I curled into a tight ball, bringing my knees up to my chin as I hugged them close. With my eyes squeezed shut, I tried to escape into darkness. "I don't feel well... I think I have a fever," I murmured, desperation lacing my voice.His response was harsh and uncaring. "Do I look like I give a damn about your fever? Get ready!" he snapped back, his impatience cutting through the air like a knife.Tears welled up in my closed eyes, and I found my voice again, pleading with him. "Please, Uncle Tony, not today. I really don't want to."There was a brief pause, during which my heart raced with fragil
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