[ Her mother breathes in deeply, exhales just as deeply. She may be on death's bed, but her expression is bright. Her hand retracts when she's done with her daughter's hair, but the grip she has in Jiuqing's hand stays. With the smallest movements, she massages her daughter's fingers. ]
I would love a cup of tea.
[ Her eyes wane into crescents, smiling in all sorts of ways. ]
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I would love a cup of tea.
[ Her eyes wane into crescents, smiling in all sorts of ways. ]