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My hands shook as I took the papers from my mother.
For a second, something like pain crossed her face.
Then the anger snapped back.
“Sit down,” she said. “You need to know who he really is.”
My husband looked at me with wet eyes.
“Please,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”
I flipped through it, my brain trying to catch up.
My hands shook as I took the papers from my mother.
They were printed emails. Old messages. A police report.
The date of the accident.
The route.
An address that was not his grandparents’ house.
My stomach rolled.
Jenna’s name.
I flipped through it, my brain trying to catch up.
There were messages between him and Jenna from that day.
“Can’t stay long,” he’d written. “Got to get back before she suspects.”
“Drive safe,” she’d replied. “Love you.”
“Tell me she’s lying.”
My stomach rolled.
“No,” I whispered.
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