The envelope arrived the next morning, slipped under the door of the safe house while we were all asleep, and I found it when I went to make coffee, my bare feet cold on the tile floor and my hand on my stomach. There was no name, no return address, no indication of who had sent it or why, just my name written across the front in handwriting I didn't recognize."What's that?" Sarah asked, coming up behind me."I don't know.""Maybe you shouldn't open it.""I have to."I carried the envelope to the kitchen table and sat down, my hands shaking as I tore it open. Inside was a thick file, pages and pages of documents and photographs and handwritten notes, and I spread them out across the table, my eyes scanning the words, my heart pounding in my chest."What is it?" Merald asked, walking in from the bedroom.I couldn't answer, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but stare at the pages in front of me."Debbie?""It's about my brother."The file was thick, thicker than any of the others I
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