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”
I looked at the stained-glass window.
It was abstract. Blue and gold shapes, no people.
“I was afraid I would,” I said.
She turned toward me.
I continued, “I was afraid I’d come and become everything again. Nurse, wallet, daughter, crisis manager, emotional landfill.”
She flinched.
“I never wanted you to feel that way.”
I looked at her then.
“Mom, I need continue reading …
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