Portia Moore - He Lived Next Door

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Portia Moore - He Lived Next Door Page 29

by Unknown


  He looks at me with worry and concern, and a moment later, his face is hard and his expression has gone cold. “Do you want me to make him leave?”

  His voice is low and bitter, which makes my stomach drop. I can’t take more fighting, more confrontation, confusion, and anger. Is this all that’s left of my family? No. It can’t be. I want to fix it, but how do I fix it when I’m broken? How do you fix yourself after you break?

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