Later, as she dressed and shoved the wad of bills from the dresser into her bra, she felt her conscience tugging on her sleeve and shoved it backward into the wall. A fine shower of dust fell upon it, and the picture above rocked on its nail, threatening to fall.
She spun around to face it and found it cowering, crying with its face pressed against the faded flower wallpaper.
"Fuck!" she shouted and spittle flew from her lips to land on the stained carpet "How else was I supposed to afford to give my kid a Merry Christmas?"
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