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That made me freeze.
“What are you talking about?”
It was warm inside.
The fire crackled in the stone fireplace. Everything looked the same — the worn couch, braided rug, and faded curtains — but it felt different with this stranger standing here.
I stayed near the door.
“Tell me what secret you think my mom kept from me.”
“I knew your mother.” He shifted the baby in his arms.
“She said I could stay here if I ever needed to. If things got bad. She gave me a key years ago.”
I wanted to call him a liar, but something in his voice stopped me.
He sat down carefully.
“My wife died two weeks ago.
During childbirth.” He looked down at the baby.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and meant it.
“I had nowhere else to go. This cabin was the only place I could think of where no one would turn me away.”
I studied his face, trying to find something familiar, but I didn’t recognize him.
(Not yet.)
I should’ve kicked him out, but I didn’t have the heart to send that baby out into the cold.
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