I studied his eyes. Obsessively. I could tell when to make myself scarce by the color of his eyes. When they were a light blue it would be okay to be around him. But when they turned a cloudy shade of bluish-gray it was time to be out of his reach. I felt bad about leaving my mom there with him while I fled, but I couldn’t get her to leave him. The only way to save my mom from those flat gray eyes was . . .
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