Desiree

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“My baby.” She starts sobbing in earnest, tears contorting her face. “I pushed and pushed. For so long. I was alone.” Teardrops fall from her eyes, soaking her shirt, landing on my hand. “I tried to be quiet, but then I finally got him out…” My throat cinches. Him. A boy.
Goldfinch (The Plated Prisoner, #6)
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