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is alive,” Zoe sobbed. “She’s safe.”
“She’s scared you’ll hate her,” Zoe whispered, handing me the phone.
I unlocked it and scrolled to the final image. It was a photo of a girl in a gray hoodie walking away from the beach. I zoomed in, and my stomach turned. It wasn’t Lucy. It was Zoe, wearing Lucy’s necklace, creating continue reading …
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