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the room, ugly and exposed.
He went pale.
“You forgot to hang up,” I said. “Four minutes and seventeen seconds.”
He tried pleading. Then anger. Then disbelief. I stood still through all of it.
“I filed this morning,” I told him. “Divorce. Fraud. Attempted theft of inheritance. You have an hour to leave.”
“You can’t do this,” he said.
“I already have.”
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