Damaged Goods -- Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
The church’s basement reeked of overheated coffee and bleach. Despite my total lack of interest, I did call my therapist back and promise to make an appearance. I walked into the meeting room and surveyed the small group clustered around the coffee and donuts. It wasn’t easy, but I stifled the urge to pump my fist and yell, “Let’s get this p…
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