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herself, shaking.
“They can’t just let you go,” Tiffany said when she saw me. “They can’t just undo it.”
“They can,” I said. “And they did.”
My mother looked up. “What did you do?”
“I listened,” I said. “And I made a call.”
I walked past them both into the living room, where the last of the party decorations still lay half-packed in cardboard boxes. Confetti continue reading …
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