When I ran away from my ex-husband, I didn’t care where to. Only that he wouldn’t catch up and take my daughter away.
But at my stepfather’s house it wasn’t as calm as I’d wanted. I wasn’t the only one who had escaped into the wilderness to lick my wounds.
That same evening my half-brother came home—one I hadn’t seen in ten years.
And if my wounds were only emotional, his were quite real.
He wasn’t at all happy to see me either—and that hurts even more, because once we were the closest people.
With immense gratitude to those who share with us the bought books!
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