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fell open. Jessica clapped hands over hers. Sharon staggered back, suddenly too weak.
I looked down at him from the elevation of money and clarity.
“Good evening, Ethan. What are you doing in front of my house so late? Weren’t you busy enjoying steak?”
“Your house?” Sharon stammered, her legs giving out.
“Yes, Sharon. My parents’ house. The house I grew continue reading …
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