Debbie Roth

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“It felt so bloody good to get away from my old man,” I say after a moment. “When I left Renäs. Not having him there all the time, sticking his nose into everything, y’know? Things always had to be done his way, and there was no bloody arguing with him. You know how it is: he’d kick up a hell of a stink if I even stacked the wood in a different place.”
When the Cranes Fly South
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