" My mom’s an actress,” I say, distracting myself now. “Or, she was an actress, when she was young. She has a flair for the dramatic.” Understatement. If my mother were here, she’d have called an ambulance—big voiced, urgent. She’d have been doing a very beautiful brow-wrinkle while waiting for it to arrive. She would have enfolded Alex in a perfectly posed hug, one that ensured the skin of her arms didn’t smoosh in an unflattering way. "
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