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closed.
“Claire,” she said, and her voice sounded like she had been crying for hours.
“Take it down.”
She sniffed. “What?”
“The fundraiser. Take it down.”
“I didn’t make it.”
“Megan did.”
“She’s trying to help.”
“She’s lying.”
My mother was quiet.
I turned my chair toward the window. The city below was already dark, streetlights blurring in November rain.
“Mom,continue reading …
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