“Thank you, Fran.” I reach for the clothes she’s put on the rod. The plastic crinkles under my touch, and I feel as fragile this morning. I haven’t cried yet, and I’m determined not to spend today in tears. There were plenty of those last night, thank you very much.
“Have a good day, honey,” Fran says, oblivious to my distress. I hide things very well, I…
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