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with you.”
“She’s eighteen.”
“She is barely eighteen.”
“She will be sleeping in my guest room and interning at a design studio. This is not Vegas.”
“You don’t get it. You are pulling her away from me.”
“No,” I said. “You are making away feel peaceful.”
Megan went quiet.
I almost regretted saying it.
Almost.
Savannah arrived with two suitcases, three sketchbooks,continue reading …
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