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Princesa
Haley Alverado moved in next door when I was four and she was three. She spoke funny and I liked how it sounded. Her hair was as black as my room without the nightlight, and her brown eyes were as warm as Mom’s hugs. I was captivated, but she was so weird. She would mostly say words that I knew, but once in a while there was something thrown in that didn’t register. She would refer to herself as a ‘princesa’ instead of a princess and she told me stories about where she used to live, with the...