Debbie Roth

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When I went to catalogue the millions of dollars of gifts that were supposed to have been put in storage at the mansion, there was nothing there. The storage room was empty except for a few trinkets of little to no value—a child’s music box, some cheap snow globes, some random movie memorabilia. I didn’t have the heart to tell him everything was gone, that people he had trusted had betrayed his trust.
Only Say Good Things: Surviving Playboy and Finding Myself
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