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placed.
She had looked almost too perfect to be real.
Now the blood had drained from her face.
“Lorenzo,” she said, forcing a brittle little smile, “who is this child? What is she doing here?”
The girl turned.
Not toward Lorenzo.
Toward Vivian.
Her small arm rose. Her finger pointed directly at the bride.
“She destroyed my family,” the child said. “She killed continue reading …
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