Ruan Viljoen

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And as they pulled away, she saw Harold, this stranger who had been her husband for so many years, with a dog trotting at his side, and a group of followers she didn’t know—but she didn’t throw a wave, or toot the horn. Without fanfare or ceremony or even a proper goodbye, she drove away from Harold, and let him walk.
The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry (Harold Fry, #1)
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