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“What do you need, Mr. Whitmore?”
I took a breath and told him everything—Sophie’s words, Margaret’s behavior, my sudden illness, the retreat.
When I finished, Marcus was quiet for a beat. “Where’s your wife now?”
“At the airport,” I said. “Supposedly flying to Kelowna.”
“Supposedly,” Marcus repeated. “Stay put. Give me twenty minutes. I’ll check flight continue reading …
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