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but the restaurant had stapled the reservation slip to the receipt.
Monroe J. Party of Two.
I stood in the dry cleaner’s parking lot holding that small piece of paper.
Monroe J.
Not just J anymore. Her full name in ink, connected to a night he had told me he was traveling for work.
I put it in my bag. I got in my car. I drove to pick up Lily from school,continue reading …
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