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dog slowed and stared, then smiled in recognition.
“Martha?”
Martha stopped.
It was Helen Wilson, one of Carol’s oldest friends, a woman with iron-gray curls and the sort of neighborhood knowledge that saw everything without seeming nosy about it.
“Helen,” Martha said. “Hi.”
Helen beamed at Amy.
“Look at you. You’ve gotten so big.”
Amy gave a shy wave.
Helen continue reading …
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