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There was none.
She said it the way you ask someone to pass the salt.
“It’s in my name,” I said. “That’s where it stays.”
She smiled. Not warmly. Not quite cold either. It was the smile of a person setting down a marker in a game she believed would continue.
“Okay, Mom. Just a thought.”
But it was not just a thought.
Thoughts do not come with follow-up letters continue reading …
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