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”
He heard the weight of it. “I preferred not to look.”
“Yes.”
“And because I preferred not to, I allowed her to tell a story about my daughter that wasn’t true.”
“Yes.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“She almost convinced me you had given up,” he said.
I drank my coffee.
“Did any part of you suspect?” I asked. Not unkindly. Just directly.
He thought about it with continue reading …
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