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air.”
We stood, leaving my family sitting at the table.
As we walked out, I heard Clare say to Mom, “What do we do?”
Mom’s response: “I don’t know.”
The garden behind Rosewood Manor was beautiful. Stone paths, night-blooming jasmine, soft lighting that made everything look like a painting.
Robert lit a cigar. Offered one to Jason, who declined.
“I’m sorry,continue reading …
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