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III

      i had been walking home with quincy as she whispered to me about a woman who had eleven toes, and the extra toe gave her powers. her name was Jupiter, she said while tugging me by hand away from the camp. red faced, the counselor had handed me a note, politely explaining to my father how i fucked up that day. my hands soaked through the envelope as i clutched it against my fast-beating heart. between shaky breaths and uncertain steps, i cherished this exact moment. the last, deep breath before the storm. at least, for that moment, i had her, and jupiter.