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I locked my wife in the pantry under the stairs

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hidden. It is standing in the room, old and ugly.

Emily’s hand rests over her stomach.

“I left the ring because I needed to crawl through that passage without anything catching. Not because I stopped loving you in that second.”

My breath catches.

“But when I found your father,” she continues, “and he told me what she had done, I understood something.”

I continue reading …

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