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The cemetery had offered no comfort. It never did. But I stayed at Emily’s grave until the groundskeeper’s flashlight swept across the rows of headstones, a polite signal that visiting hours were over.
I didn’t go home. Couldn’t face that mansion. Couldn’t sit through another dinner pretending to be civilized while plotting everyone’s downfall.
Instead, I drove to the property on the edge of the city. The one no one knew about. Not Maurice. Not Grandfather. Not even the fami ...
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