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my hands on the table.
“You still can’t say it.”
Vanessa blinked.
“I just apologized.”
“No. You apologized for pain. For pressure. For insecurity. For a terrible moment. You dressed it up until it almost sounded like weather.”
Her cheeks flushed.
I leaned forward.
“You planned it.”
Her attorney shifted. “Mrs. Miller—”
Deborah raised one finger without looking continue reading …
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