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minutes late.”
“It’s 7:32,” I said, forcing a smile.
“That is late.”
Meadow pressed her face into my coat.
“Be good for Grandma,” I told her.
Judith’s eyes traveled over the braids. “We need to talk about this hair obsession.”
“She’s eight.”
“She spends too much time looking at herself.”
I should have turned around. I should have put Meadow back in the car.continue reading …
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