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to my chest. I felt my knees buckle, and Eleanor caught my elbow, guiding me to her couch. “That’s impossible,” I managed to say, my voice high and strange in my own ears. “We divorced five years ago. He gave me the card. He walked away. He can’t be—”
Eleanor sat beside me, taking my hand in both of hers. “He was sick long before the divorce,” she said continue reading …
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