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her bed, my voice cracking.
“Why a stranger, Mom? Why not me? Why couldn’t you tell your own daughter?”
Louis stood there, jacket folded over his arm, the notebook tucked beneath it.
She closed her eyes for a long moment.
“Because I was ashamed, Margaret. Sixty years of shame. I gave him away before you were ever born.”
“And you thought I’d hate you for continue reading …
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