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I was chopping vegetables when my four-year-old daughter

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me.

There is Emma’s shoulder with a bruise blooming across it.

There is my kitchen in the background.

There is a message from Diane beneath it.

I worry Melissa gets overwhelmed. I don’t want to interfere, but Emma needs protection.

My vision narrows.

The date is not from three weeks ago.

It is almost a year old.

Diane has been building a story around me for continue reading …

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