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I met her eyes. “Try me.”
The crowd gasped again. Someone actually clapped.
Mama’s voice cut through the quiet.
“Lord, if karma had frosting, this would be it.”
I lifted my champagne glass. “To honesty.”
Then I turned and walked toward the open doors, the music rising behind me — light, sweet, and just a little triumphant. Outside, the Louisiana heat wrapped around me like freedom itself.
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