She had not chosen her life, but she was foggy on whether or not it was right to deny others the right to join her in her suffering. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. ’ ‘But I have told you not,’ she protested. By the intense look of him, she guessed that she had just encountered for the first time the boy genius Martin Chen.
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