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“It looks very natural, Alison,” Rachel said, her pen tapping against her chin as she watched Harold hand Mia a dandelion from the lawn. “If I didn’t know about his house, I would think he was just a good uncle.”
“He was Mike’s best friend,” I said.
“Mike didn’t have a house with five bedrooms,” Rachel clipped her words, her eyes scanning the neat brick continue reading …
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