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We’ve got mail
Inside the house, Matthew was cooking dinner, the smell of tomato sauce wafting through the air. “Matty, we’ve got mail,” Alice called out, her curiosity piqued. Matthew turned, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. “Who’s it from?” “I don’t know,” Alice said, slicing open the envelope with a kitchen knife. The paper was thick, a heavy cream color that seemed to glow in the dim kitchen light.
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