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apple tree branches.
Rafael joined her.
For a while, they stood in silence.
“I lost so much,” Marisol said.
“Yes,” Rafael replied.
“I caused much of it.”
“Yes.”
She looked at him. “You don’t soften truth.”
“I spent too many years sanding wood. You learn what should be smoothed and what should remain solid.”
Marisol smiled faintly.
Inside, laughter rose from continue reading …
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