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written on the tag in faded black ink: BOX 214.
“Daniel lied to you about everything,” Walter whispered. Each word seemed to cost him twice as much air as he had. “About the money. About the house. About why he let you go. About what he did after you signed.”
I stood motionless, the key pressed into my palm, feeling my pulse hammering in my ears.
“The continue reading …
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