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want to fix this?”
“You are my son,” I said. “You failed me. Deeply. But I am not ready to bury you while you are still alive.”
He walked around the table and knelt beside my chair.
“Forgive me, Mom.”
I cried too. Not because the hurt was gone, but because I could finally see it on his face.
Emily asked if there was anything she could do.
“You can start continue reading …
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