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a question. It was an opening, a way of asking me to be honest rather than kind.
“I think she was trying to make sure you were safe,” I said. “That’s what the letter is about.”
“Is she coming?”
“I don’t know yet.”
His eyes filled but didn’t overflow. He nodded once, the nod of someone accepting an answer they had half expected.
I called Detective Reed from continue reading …
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