The Man Who Raised Me
I begged you, Laura.
For years.
I begged you to call them.
I begged you to send a single birthday card.
I begged you to remember that they were little girls, six little girls, and not discarded furniture you had left behind in a house you’d outgrown.”
Laura had no words.
And it was Gregory who spoke, turning to her slowly, something dawning in his face.
“You told me,” he said, “that he changed his number.
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