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“The ones that match you with relatives!” she continued, like she was describing a cute hobby. “Isn’t that exciting?”
I stood up so fast my chair scraped.
Denise tilted her head, sweet and poisonous. “Why does that upset you? If you have nothing to hide, it shouldn’t matter.”
I felt an old, sick wave of fear because I did have something to hide.
My MIL smiled wider. “And guess what? It got results.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
I reached out to the matches. They’re coming over.”
I went pale. “Denise, no.
Tell them not to.”
She ignored me completely. The doorbell rang, and Denise opened the door.
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