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seen until that moment.
The officers were reciting her rights, but she wasn’t listening.
Her eyes found mine, and for the first time in thirty-three years, the mask of the perfect debutante was gone.
There was nothing behind it but terror.
“I had to,” she whispered, her voice a jagged shard of glass. “He has Madison.”
I froze.
Madison, my seven-year-old continue reading …
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