Uska call bhi nahi utha raha tha. Tab uska message aaya, ‘Kal subah 9 baje canal pe aajana. Nahi aaoge to main wahi baithi rahungi, ghar nahi jaungi...’ Gussa bahot tha mujhe par milne chala gaya. Woh station par hi mera wait kar rahi thi.Canal tak pahochne tak usne mujhe bahot try kiya hasane ke liye sorry bhi kaha par main nahi mana. Uske bad usne aaj ek nayi jagah pe jane ko bola jo canal ke raste ho kar kuch 2-3 km aage thi. Wahan par koi aata jata nahi tha aaspas khet the par jhadiyo mein. Friendly.It was that knife conversation with Lieutenant Sanchez that, eventually, led to 200 pounds of dog food. That Anaheim discussion, my relaying it to Clint, and a memory of Dixie Wexler ... converged into my taking what seemed like overzealous precautions.But I relented when Clint put both of his huge hands on my shoulders, “Winter, I lost Marcella. I couldn’t...” Tears glistened in his eyes. He was telling me, without words, that he loved me. Or cared for me a lot. Pretty sure.The. More

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