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Denise was smiling.
Something about that smile felt wrong.
I turned the photo over.
And my heart nearly stopped.
In my mother’s handwriting, it said:
“If anything happens to us, don’t let Denise take the kids. Rowan will know what to do.”
The next day, I brought the photo to Mrs. Dalrymple.
She stared at it for a long time.
“I remember that day,” she said continue reading …
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