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“Don’t get confused. It wasn’t a gift for you. It was her right.” He nodded. “I’m going to therapy.” “Good.” “My mom is too.” “Even better.” “Will you ever forgive me someday?” I looked at Claire sleeping with her mouth open, peaceful, as if the world hadn’t tried to turn her into a trophy before she was born. “I don’t know,” I said. “But I no longer continue reading …
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