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went white.
“Open the gate,” he said.
“Dad—”
“Open it.”
The iron gate slid aside.
My father walked out slowly. He was thinner than he’d once been, but his back stayed straight. He didn’t look at Catherine first.
He went to the children.
He knelt down in front of Anna and gently lifted the cardboard sign off her neck where it had been scratching her skin. continue reading …
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