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Then I found one at the very top.
The postmark was recent.
Nine days ago.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“Anna?”
Jean’s footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Nine days ago.
I stuffed letters into my purse, jacket, and waistband — anywhere I could hide them.
“Anna, what are you—”
Jean stopped in the doorway.
Three emotions crossed her face in a single second: confusion,continue reading …
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