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... ital.
They were each in separate rooms.
"Hey, Rose," Barry looked up, his smile as bright as the morning sun. "Feeling any better?"
"How are you holding up, Rose?" Joyce, perched on the edge of her hospital bed, chimed in with genuine concern.
"I’m fine." Rosemary set a basket of apples on the table, her eyes briefly landing on the bowl of oatmeal in Barry’s hands. "What’s Joyce eating?"
"I tried whipping up some nutritious oatmeal I found online. It’s not ...
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