In her mind, she was six, clutching an empty bassinet with tears in her eyes. Her mom laid her sharp hand on Olivia's head, fingertips flared like peacocks. "I love my daughter more than anything else that there will ever be in the world," she said, and twelve-year-old Olive on the train sniffed and trembled, but invisibly. It was six years later, and her mother now continued the sentence, "but what I don't love is this darn attitude, and I wish you'd knock it the heck off."
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