“She blinked once, a slow move that made it possible to believe I was actually watching the wheels in her brain struggle for traction. “Wanda murdered your father?” she asked.I knew it was unbelievable. I could not even grasp the depth or gravity of what I had so recently discovered—and what I had finally said aloud. “Da.”“Proof, Sasha,” Jessie begged.Had she ever called me that before—ever called me Sasha?“I need proof.”But I knew what she really meant was: Please let his proof be something I c...an blow a hole through—please let him be wrong. Oddly, I felt guilty knowing I was not wrong.Wanda had saved Jessie’s life—had probably saved most of us at least once—which made it even harder to fathom the level of her betrayal.How much worse to know all the good she had done recently and still know it could not stack up against her cruelest work—taking away our father’s life and imprisoning our mother?“There was a woman that my mother spoke of briefly while we lived in Farthington—a friendly woman with a small, yippy dog.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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