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My Sister Called to Say Mom Had Died—While Mom Was Standing Right Beside Me

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special pen with ink engineered to vanish completely after about an hour of exposure to air. “I’ve got one.”

I uncapped the pen and signed in my neat cursive: Amara Vance.

I handed the clipboard back to Hunter and smiled. “Happy now?”

Dominique snatched it, eyes dropping to the signature. A triumphant smirk curved beneath her veil. “Smart choice. Now continue reading …

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