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You can handle it.”
I wanted to say no. I wanted to scream: Why is it always me?
But Sabrina was sobbing so loudly I couldn’t even hear my own pulse. Mom kept rubbing her shoulders, whispering, “We can’t let this ruin her future.”
I don’t know what ruined me more—their expectation, or the ease with which I finally nodded.
When the police officer came,continue reading …
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