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window of the night. All using the same alley.
Frank Duca. The man who’d helped Walt re-roof the garage in 2009. The man who brought over tomatoes from his garden every August.
At 2:14 in the morning on night eleven, Helen’s phone buzzed with a motion alert from the front porch camera.
A figure on the porch. Not the hooded scout. Someone new, bigger. continue reading …
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