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The hammering on my door wakens the babies, who naturally immediately
start to cry. As I unbolt the door, I think that whoever it is had better
have a very good reason for waking them (and me) up at what feels
like the middle of the night.
Don is standing there in his nightshirt. He looks frantic. "It's Sara,"
he says.
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"She's gone! I don't know how or why. I just woke up and she wasn't there."
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"She's gone! Her abductors left this note." He has a piece of paper in his hand.
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"She's gone! She left this note." He has a piece of paper in his hand.
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"We'd been talking late into the evening. Then she suddenly asked me if I'd ever had an affair. I couldn't lie to her straight out. I told her everything. Now she wants you to join us while we thrash it out."
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"She's running a high fever."
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