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Ethan wasn’t lying beside his mother. He sat next to her on the bed, holding her trembling hand. The older woman’s voice quivered in the dark.
“Don’t leave me, John,” she whispered. “You’re just like your father. Don’t go.”
Grace’s breath caught.
John. That was Ethan’s father’s name.
Mrs. Turner’s eyes were open, staring at her son as if she truly believed continue reading …
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