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”
“I don’t care.”
I opened the door.
“Take your suitcase and leave.”
He looked at me like I was supposed to soften.
Like I was supposed to remember the man who tucked Talia in at night, made Saturday pancakes, and kissed my forehead when I was tired.
But all I could see was my daughter standing barefoot in the kitchen with a newborn in her arms because her continue reading …
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