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who uncovered secrets for a living.
“I’m sorry, Crawford,” he said, his voice rough like sandpaper worn smooth. “I know this isn’t what you were hoping to find.”
“I wasn’t hoping to find anything,” I whispered, my voice hollow. “I was hoping you’d tell me I was paranoid. That the rumors were wrong. That my wife wasn’t…”
I couldn’t finish the sentence.continue reading …
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