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... when something inside Abigail changed.
Her anger didn’t die down, it sharpened. Her heart didn’t break it solidified. If there was one thing Robert should have remembered about her, it was that Abigail was not the kind of woman who folded in defeat. She never had been. And she wasn’t going to start now.
She squared her shoulders, her voice firm but steady.
"You know me," she said slowly, with weight in every word. "You know I’m not the kind of woman who’ll fold her hands ...
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