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wanted,” I said. “And I’m glad you have a story you can live with about why I wasn’t there.”
“You’re overreacting,” my father said, that old phrase he’d used on me since I was twelve.
I looked at him.
“No,” I said. “For once, I’m reacting exactly enough.”
There was nothing left to argue. Their version of the truth had been rehearsed long before I arrived.continue reading …
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