I remember the fabric of my shirt, the cross-stitch behind me (made for me by my grandmother and which hangs in my kitchen now,) the red "Princess" phone, and my canopy bed. I'm sitting on that bed, in my daughter's bedroom, right now. In fact, my daughter was born in this bed, but now's not the time for that story. I don't remember who I'm talking to on the phone, but am considering the possibilities.
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19th Century - A Crime of Passion: Why? Praslin Family Letters
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