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“You’ve already done enough. More than enough. Really.”
He didn’t argue further.
But the next afternoon, I heard my doorbell ring.
When I opened it, Michael stood there with a woman who must have been his wife and two beautiful children.
He was holding a pie dish in one hand, steam still rising from it.
“We came to invite you and Lily to Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow,” he said, smiling warmly. “And my wife brought something for you.”
His wife stepped forward, holding out a small folder.
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