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”
“As agreed.”
“Good.”
I looked at the empty chair where my brother had been.
For the first time, I did not feel the familiar urge to translate his cruelty into injury.
Maybe Preston was wounded.
Maybe he was spoiled.
Maybe both.
But explanation was not absolution.
And I was done paying emotional invoices I never approved.
Meredith was more strategic.
She did continue reading …
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