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the one thing she wanted me to have and spent it on a car for Megan?”
My mother’s face hardened into something ugly and threatening.
“She’s in hospice, Annabelle. She’s on morphine half the time. She’s confused, tired, dying. She doesn’t need to know anything that might upset her in her final days.”
“You mean you don’t want her to know what you did.”
“I continue reading …
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