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The Night He Told Me to Leave, He Forgot Whose Name Was on Everything

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The limestone fireplace mantle was next. Brandon loved posing there, bourbon in hand, pretending he owned some old-money estate. He never realized it was a freestanding surround that I’d had custom-fabricated, clamped to the wall with hidden brackets, not cemented into the structure.

Dave slid a flat pry bar behind the stone. With a grinding groan of continue reading …

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