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I didn’t ask for a second opinion. I didn’t ask what a tie rod end was. I just reached for my card, because a man in a work shirt with grease on his hands told me something was broken, and I believed him.
And because he’d looked at me instead of my mother, I’d let him.
My mother put two fingers on my wrist.
That was all.
Just two fingers. Light as a feather.continue reading …
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