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... ontrol meant survival. That if she held the strings tightly enough—memories, marriages, money—nothing would slip through her fingers. Everything she had done, every line she had crossed, had been in service of that belief.
No. I can’t lose it now.
She drew in a steadying breath and finally lifted her head to face Hugo.
"Yes," she said. "It’s true. I asked Kathrine to run away."
Her tone was firm, rehearsed—but the slight tremor beneath it betrayed her. She hated t ...
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