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Foster homes. People didn’t want me because I didn’t talk.
After my mom died… I couldn’t be normal. I was too broken.
I held Noah’s face in my hands, my vision blurring.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
His eyes searched mine, desperate.
“I didn’t know it was him at first. His hair, his face… everything looked different. But then I heard his laugh this morning.
And I knew.
I could never forget that sound… not after everything.”
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