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... he columns and lawn felt colder than ever—this place had never been her home, not really, even though she'd grown up here. It felt more like a gilded prison than home.

She stared at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were red and puffy—anyone could tell she'd been crying. Heather let out a quiet sigh, climbed out, and started toward the house.

At the steps, her stepmother Evelyn was chatting and laughing with a few guests of the evening. The instant Evelyn spotted he ...

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