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... n, stammering desperately, "J-Jack, please... listen... my ankle really was hurt... I c-couldn’t walk... Dexter carried me because... because I was in pain... I’m telling the truth, I swear on our children..."

Her voice cracked completely on the last word. Fresh tears poured down her cheeks, mixing with the red mark of the slap.

I stepped forward, raising both hands in a show of anxious concern, voice pitched perfectly — worried, earnest, slightly shaky.

"No — Jack, pleas ...

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