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voice on the phone, not angry, tight, the kind of voice that is deciding what comes next.
My son sat down.
He didn’t look at me for a while.
“I didn’t mean for it to get like this,” he said finally.
“I know,” I said. “But it got like this.”
He put his face in his hands briefly, then lifted it.
“We don’t have anywhere lined up.”
“You have 30 days and two incomes,continue reading …
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