Pippa must notice the color leaving my face because she chews on her lip nervously. She looks away from me and focuses on the photos of her mom laid out on the table. “You just have this way with words that no one else has.” “Written words. I don’t know if I’m good at the whole saying it aloud thing.” Pippa’s shoulders slump as her eyes focus on a picture of her mom holding baby Cade. “Will you at least help me write something that I can read?” As terrifying as it is to stand up at one of those podiums again and address a crowd full of people, I don’t want Pippa to have to go through it since
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