Verity Lee

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Then I’d remember, and I’d lose her all over again. I lost her repeatedly, each morning when I woke and had to be reminded that she was gone. Every significant moment that happened to me, I would want to tell her. Every song I knew she’d like, and she wasn’t here to hear it. Every piece of classical music I heard, and picturing her with her cello, eyes closed, head swaying, completely lost to the melody.
A Thousand Broken Pieces (A Thousand Boy Kisses, #2)
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