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on to that word like a rope.
Improving.
Not gone.
Not disposed of.
Improving.
Quincy sat beside me, his small hand inside mine. Every few seconds, his thumb pressed against my knuckle as if checking I was still there.
The recording crackled. Then Nadine’s voice came through.
“Compassion requires courage, Garrett. You know what happens to families who pretend continue reading …
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