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her before asking.”
Every Morning, My Neighbor Carried Out Bags of Trash—When I Discovered Where They Really Came From, I Was Completely Shocked
Two mornings later, we heard a dull thud outside. Barbara was on her knees by the curb, one hand pressed flat to the pavement, the other still clutching a bag.
Anna and I ran across the street. “The truck’s coming — I have to get these out,” she whispered, trying to stand.
“The bags can wait,” Anna said gently, helping her up.
