My Dying Husband Asked Me to Adopt a 16-Year-Old Girl—The Day After His Funeral, She Whispered, “He Spent Your Entire Marriage Lying to You”
“He did that part himself.”
Sadie wiped her face.
“He wasn’t bad.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you saying—”
“Because people don’t have to be entirely bad to hurt you.”
She stared.
Christopher had clearly become sacred after Theresa died.
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