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... of the hospital, dialing Sophie Smith’s number again and again, but no one answered.
Damn it, where on earth had she gone?
...
This was the third funeral she attended.
The first two were for her own mother and father.
This time, it was Wyatt Sterling.
She always remembered their first meeting.
He was gentle and warm, his lips always curled into a comforting smile.
He stood before her, looking down at her.
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