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... skin from my night in the pigsty—the filth of it making my stomach churn. I smelled like sweat, tears, and something unpleasantly sour.

I let out a bitter laugh, though there was nothing funny about it.

I was disgusting.

I reached up, touching my tangled hair. It was stiff with dried sweat and god knows what else. My entire body itched.

I needed to clean up.

I forced myself to stand, wobbling slightly as I made my way to the adjoining bathroom. The sight ...

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