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Ruth slid a folder across the table.
Daniel went pale.
His lawyer grabbed the folder, scanned it, and whispered, “You knew?”
Daniel turned on me.
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did,” I said. “You refused the certified letters three times. Your mother’s office signed for them.”
“Proof of receipt. Proof of suppression. Proof that Evelyn Pierce instructed attorneys to bury the reports and threaten our mother instead.”
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