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crying in sympathy before he understood his own feelings.
I put their bags down and did the only thing available.
I held them.
Not efficiently. Not bravely. Just steadily.
“This is your home for as long as it needs to be,” I told them.
Susan pressed her face into my sweater and said, muffled, “Mom says this is temporary.”
“Maybe some parts are,” I said. continue reading …
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