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Serena perched on a stool, filming a story on her phone, narrating something about family and new beginnings.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” my mother said, and she gestured at the pastry as if it were a gift instead of a prop. Then, gently, so gently, she slid the folder toward me across the stone. “We need to talk about that money.”
Grant placed a pen continue reading …
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