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#Chapter 89 – A Secret Hidey-hole

DORIS

The sound of me wildly slinging hangers from one side of the bar to the other, scratched and scratched like nails screeching down a blackboard. The sound grated. Each sound felt like mini daggers, flaying my skin, ripping my heart.

I roughly pulled each of my new and old favorite dresses and blouses off the hangers and threw them as quickly as I could into the suitcases.

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