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have to be. It just has to be hers.
That same week I went back to Ryan’s box one more time. Not for documents. For the letter at the very bottom that I’d noticed on December 26th and hadn’t been ready to open. Sealed, with Lily, 18th birthday written on the front in Ryan’s blocky print.
I broke my own rule. I opened it standing in the hallway, one hand continue reading …
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