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My father’s eyes fill. “And you still kept sending.”
I nod. “Because hope is stubborn,” I say. “And so am I.”
That night, the house is quiet, but it’s a safe quiet now.
No locks on the pantry.
No footsteps in the dark.
No fear poisoning the air.
Just warmth.
And the truth I found on the other side of one terrible door.
THE END
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