She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. Her mother had prepared her for everything. But he was now too deeply moved to trace a certain unsatisfactoriness to its source in a mixture of metaphors. For a moment she thought of saying yes, and then filled with shame. Refused admittance, they broke open the door.
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