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died. Terrence stood at the counter where Esther kept her pill organizer, holding two orange prescription bottles. One was Esther’s heart medication. The other unlabeled.
He was pouring pills from one bottle into the other.
He was smiling.
“He killed her,” I whispered, the words tasting like gravel. “He killed his own mother.”
Vance spoke, his voice gravelly.continue reading …
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