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wait until you hear it.”
She cried harder.
Then, after a long time, she whispered, “My voice says I love my son.”
I nodded.
“That’s the voice we listen to.”
Ava wiped her face.
“My voice says I was scared.”
“Yes.”
“My voice says I should have told you.”
I shook my head.
“Your voice doesn’t get to blame you for surviving.”
She looked at me for a long moment.
Then continue reading …
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