Kaja Salsman

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It’s not the same, because nothing will ever be the same as that rainy night; nothing will come close to the horror of being left alone in the world, unexpectedly and completely, but I had her, and she left me. The other shoe dropped, the way it always does in the end. Mia might be in my house, sleeping in the next room—but she’s not mine. Never was, never will be.
Stealing Home (Beyond the Play #3)
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