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a locksmith. My tax bill had my name circled in red, not as gratitude, but as warning.
I drove to a Hampton Inn off Highway 280 and checked in with a credit card I kept for emergencies. The young man at the desk asked if I wanted a room away from the elevator. I almost cried because he asked me what I wanted.
“Please,” I said.
In the room, I spread the continue reading …
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