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“Please. Don’t do this. You’ll tear the family apart.”
“I’m not coming.”
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“I think Grandma deserved better,” I said. “And so did we.”
Linda looked at my mom again, like she expected the old rescue.
Linda grabbed her purse. “Fine. Have your little dinner. Read your letters. I’m not coming.”
I stood. “Yes, you are.”
“Excuse me?”
“You can show up and hear it,” I said, “or I’ll read it without you, and your version won’t exist.”
“I will,” I said. “And I won’t soften a word.”