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matters.”
During my daughter’s baby shower, I walked in to find her on her hands and knees scrubbing spilled wine off the rug.
“No. They are evidence.”
The photographer stopped taking pictures.
I looked at him. “Keep recording.”
Patricia’s expression changed then. Not fear. Calculation.
She lifted her chin. “You wouldn’t dare humiliate your own daughter publicly.”
There was the second mistake.
She thought I was doing this for revenge.
I was doing this for rescue.
