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boy, I hope he laughs like you do when you’re really happy.”
My hand flew to my mouth.
Leo stared at me. “He wrote that.”
“He thought I hated him.”
I nodded and passed him one of the birthday cards.
“Read it,” I said.
He opened it carefully.
Inside, the handwriting was Andrew’s.
“To my child,
I don’t know if you’ll ever see this. But if your mom tells you I continue reading …
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