She had once reconciled in her mind that she was happy as long as she had him. She said it audibly, having learned long since that an audible prayer was a concentrated one. She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. You got my note?” “I certainly received a note,” Anna admitted. After all, they’re history in the making. Was he your natural father? Did you know him?” “No, I didn’t.
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