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Every time I’d wondered if they’d be proud of me.
They chose money.
There was one last part.
Everything in that folder is yours, she wrote. The house. The accounts.
Use them. Go to school. Get away if you want.
Build something that belongs to you.
If they ever contact you, remember: you do not owe them explanations, forgiveness, or a cent.
You owe yourself everything.
You do not owe me forgiveness either. I lied to you. I’d do it again.
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