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I sat in my car in the school parking lot, and I did not say anything for what must have been a full 30 seconds.
“Mrs. Whitfield,” Gerald Hooper said. “Are you there?”
“I’m here,” I said. “What’s the condition?”
Because he had said there was a condition.
He had said, “There is an estate, and there is a condition.”
I had heard both parts.
Gerald Hooper paused continue reading …
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