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Lily buried her small, tear-streaked face into Arthur’s tweed coat. Her little hands gripped his lapels with white-knuckled desperation, shaking so violently that Arthur could feel the tremors passing into his own bones. The heavy metal chain clattered uselessly against the stone patio, a vile serpent finally cast aside.
“Daddy said if I didn’t bark,” Lily whispered, her voice barely carrying over the sound of the stepmother thrashing in the swimming pool, “he would make me drink the…