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was Nathaniel. He was frantically feeding documents into the roaring fire.
“Burning the evidence?” I asked.
He spun around, nearly falling. His eyes were bloodshot, wild. “Get out. This is still my father’s study.”
“No. It’s my property now.”
I began taking pictures with my phone, documenting the destruction. I knelt and picked up a singed page. My breath continue reading …
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