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stood between her and that call.
Three years of pride.
Three years of mistakes.
“Miss,” Carlos asked from behind her, “are you okay? Do you need me to call a cab?”
Vivian looked at him.
This kind man who had treated her with more dignity than the people she had lived with.
“No,” she said. “I need to make a call first.”
She pressed the number before she could continue reading …
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