After My Father’s Funeral, My Stepmother Left Me Behind and Claimed Everything—Then I Called the Number Dad Had Hidden in My Pocket
A week later, Noah left Grace’s house.
He stood on the porch with his backpack.
The same backpack he had carried down the road.
Grace hugged him.
“You call me.”
“I don’t have a phone.”
Daniel held up a small box.
“You do now.”
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