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saved: Front entry.
5:39 p.m.
I looked down.
The thumbnail showed Caleb’s hand on Vanessa’s lower back as he guided her through my kitchen door three minutes before I got home.
Not the side gate.
Not the patio.
My kitchen.
I opened the clip.
No audio.
Just the image.
Caleb looking over his shoulder.
Vanessa laughing.
His hand on her body.
The door opening.
My house continue reading …
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