The diagnostic report slipped from her hands and landed on her knees. The date on the report blurred as tears soaked through the paper.Then she suddenly laughed.Her shoulders shook as she laughed, her fingertips repeatedly rubbing the edges of the document."So you knew everything all along," she said hoarsely. "Then why did you still save me? Did it make you feel accomplished, watching me kneel in front of you?""I saved your mom," I replied calmly. "She treated me like her own son."I turned and opened the safe, taking out a bank card."There's eighty thousand dollars here. Enough for your mother to move into a place with an elevator."As for Samantha, I tossed a plane ticket toward her."The flight's tomorrow. To the Northwest Rehabilitation Center. Don't ever come back."Her hand trembled as she held the ticket. Then she laughed again."Blake, you're still the same soft-hearted person," she said. "Deep down, you know it—even if I rot in some gutter, you still can't trul
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