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On Christmas

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enough to be real.

I thought about my mother then, but only briefly.

I wondered if she was alone.

I wondered if she blamed me.

I wondered if she still believed cruelty counted as discipline when spoken with enough confidence.

Then Emma stirred in her sleep and mumbled, “Mommy?”

I went to her immediately.

“I’m here.”

Lily shifted beside her sister but did not continue reading …

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