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was about to abandon it all for a new identity when I saw the photo: my fiancée, Chloe, bea
iends. Her engagement ring, the one I' d worked double shifts for a year to buy
thought back to her father, Mr. Davis, who' d sponsored my medical school and, on his deathbed, made me promise
le she kept old photos of Leo in a box under her bed and ignored my near-fatal allergy t
no longer an escape; it was a destination. I would g

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