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said. “He’d have waited longer than I did, but he’d have done it.”
I picked up my tea.
“Gerald was a patient man, but he was clear about what was his.”
My son nodded slowly.
Something shifted in his face that I couldn’t fully read.
Not apology, not quite.
Something between remorse and recognition.
Sophie came by that Saturday.
She didn’t knock.
She never did.continue reading …
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