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is no wrong answer,” Lorenzo told her. “If you do not know someone, say so.”
For the first eleven photographs, Sophia shook her head.
No.
No.
No.
On the twelfth, she paused.
A man in a charcoal suit outside a café in Naples.
“He came to our house,” she said. “Two times. He drank coffee with Daddy. He didn’t smile.”
On the nineteenth, she paused again.
A heavyset continue reading …
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