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Thief

“Do you love me?” Annette lay on the floor outside her sister’s room. Joan was nine and in bed, if not asleep. “Joan?” Annette faced a sliver of space between the door and the molding, the opening through which her sister lay. A strip of maroon carpet stretched behind her over the wooden floorboards, leading past the door to her bedroom and her mother’s room farther down the hallway. Annette pressed her cheek to the ground and pulled her knees up under her nightdress. “Do... Read More

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