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“Mr. Harrison,” I said. “I’m at the farm. They’re here and refusing to leave.”
“Tell them exactly what I instructed. Forty-eight hours. If they don’t leave, report it.”
I ended the call and faced the Sterlings. “You heard. Forty-eight hours. And now get out of my kitchen.”
That night, I slept in my own house feeling like a stranger. I locked myself in continue reading …
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