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turn, every time Emma tried to inhale and whimpered. Derek drove with both hands locked on the wheel, jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth might crack.
I sat in the back with Emma’s head in my lap.
“Am I in trouble?” she whispered.
The words were barely sound.
“No, baby. No. You did nothing wrong.”
“Bike…”
“It’s fine.”
I did not know if it was fine. continue reading …
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