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”
He flipped through the pages. His hands shook.
“You’re five million in the hole,” I said. “And counting.”
“That’s impossible,” my mother whispered.
“It’s documented,” I said. “And it’s due.”
Tiffany shot to her feet. “I have a wedding.”
I looked at her. “You have a balance.”
She scoffed. “I’ll call the police.”
“For what?” I said. “Bad math?”
My father looked continue reading …
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