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once, then twice.
On the third call, he answered with laughter behind him.
“Daniel,” I whispered, trying not to wake our daughter. “The code isn’t working.”
A pause. Then his mother’s voice floated through the phone, sharp and pleased. “Oh, she’s outside?”
Daniel sighed as if I were the problem. “I changed it.”
My breath caught. “You changed the house passcode continue reading …
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