Choking back the tears, Celeste was afraid to meet her mother’s hateful gaze. Coloring inside the lines was hard for a five-year-old, but Celeste persisted. “Can’t you do anything right?” Gretchen slurred.  Clutching a yellow crayon in a shaking hand, the little girl tried again. Carefully, she shaded in Rapunzel‘s blonde hair. Cheeks red and brow furrowed,

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