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started to go.
“Twenty years,” I whispered. “I slept with a kitchen chair wedged under my doorknob for two of them, Marcy. You know that better than almost anyone alive.”
“I know,” she said.
“He takes such good care of me.”
“I know that too.”
“So why would he say something like that.”
Marcy crossed the room and knelt down in front of the bench, taking the continue reading …
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