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sideways.
“You sold it?” I heard my voice but it didn’t sound like mine. “Grandma said it was mine. She promised it to me.”
“Grandma’s dying, Anna.” He took another sip, completely unbothered. “She doesn’t need a piano. And neither do you, frankly. Where would you even put it? In that shoebox apartment of yours?”
Behind him, I heard the jingle of car continue reading …
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