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that.”
“But he said he heard his baby sister cry.”
“Children misremember trauma.”
“He sounded sure.”
Garrett came into the nursery and rested both hands on my shoulders. His touch was warm, steady, familiar.
“Delphine,” he said, “please don’t dig into old pain. Claire died. The baby died. Quincy survived. That’s all there is.”
I wanted to believe him.
So continue reading …
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