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Chapter 6: A Quiet Lie
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Chapter 8: The Failure
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... hen his eyes snapped open. ’No trouble, Mom.’ The sound of his own voice from last night was a sticky, fouling memory.
He could still see the wash of pure, heart-shattering relief on her face—a peace he’d purchased with a fraud. The memory of her proud smile was a hot coal pressed against his conscience. How could she be proud of a liar, a coward who was hiding the truth?
It was a torture breakfast. The bread had the flavor of dusty cardboard. His stomach growled as he pushed the ...
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