“Even after living in her Fallon apartment for half a year, the place was sparsely furnished. Just a kitchen table and two chairs, a sofa, a television, and a computer balanced on top of an old stand she’d picked up at a garage sale. Her bedroom held a simple double bed. The phone sat on the edge of her computer stand, and she answered it on the second ring. “Hello?” “Mom?” It was Emily. She sounded energetic and hopeful — the way Lauren figured she must’ve sounded before running away to Califor...nia all those years ago. “How are you?” Lauren glanced at the email from her editor. It started out the same as the others he’d been sending every few days: Lauren, we understand your need for a stateside time of respite. But it’s time to take your rightful place in the Middle East. No one can report the war like you can, Lauren. Your successors haven’t been … She closed her eyes and focused on her daughter. “Good, honey. I’m good.” The email shouted at her, calling her a liar.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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