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many flannel shirts. Caleb made sarcastic comments until I laughed so hard soup almost came out of my nose.
At nine-thirty, my phone lit up again after I turned it back on.
Seventeen missed calls.
Nine text messages.
I read none of them.
Caleb noticed.
“You can answer,” he said.
“No.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t.”
He studied me carefully, as if trying to figure continue reading …
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