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card. Your father is at guest services. Did you do something?”
Grandpa closed his eyes.
I looked at Margaret, who had returned with coffee. She raised one finger to her lips, then took out her own phone and began recording.
“Emma?” Mom snapped. “Where are you?”
“At the hospital.”
The wind noise seemed to vanish.
“What do you mean, at the hospital? Is he continue reading …
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