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The Song Remains the Same
  • Текст добавлен: 8 октября 2016, 13:37

Текст книги "The Song Remains the Same"


Автор книги: Kelli Jean



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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

Kenna

Officially on vacation in Las Vegas, my girls and I headed down to one of the bars inside the Bellagio to have a beer after lunch.

The guys were in another meeting. The hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico was now a Category Five, and the trajectory promised it would hit land back home. Every effort was being made to save the equipment in the studio.

Connor and I had convinced Da and Gloria to go stay at either the Plantation House or Grandma’s—well, my house. It was built to hold against moderate flooding. The eye of the storm was heading straight for New Orleans, and La Place was twenty-five miles west of it. There would be winds and flooding, but it certainly would not be as severe as what could happen in the city.

Moreover, someone had to board up my house.

People were evacuating the city, and our parents had insisted that we stay where we were rather than come home. Gordy, Siggie, and the Devil’s Advocate crew would take care of the studio, and they had been invited to remain in La Place until the storm blew over.

“Well, it’s not like we’re not used to such storms. It comes with the territory,” said Lili.

“True,” I replied. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

“Lewis was saying something about getting us into the fusion restaurant here. I think he talked to the guys about it,” said Lili.

From my seat at the bar, the sight of a petite blonde slinking in under the radar snatched my attention. Brigid still looked rough around the edges. Either she hadn’t seen us, or she was pretending she hadn’t. She made her way to a table where a girl with a black rocker bob sat. The girl stood and warmly hugged Brigid.

“I wonder what’s up with Devon,” muttered Alys.

Both Alys and Lili stared at the women over their beer glasses.

“I think he’s finally out of the Cannibals,” I said quietly. “He mentioned his contract ended with them on the thirty-first.”

“About damn time,” huffed Lili under her breath. “He’s got so much more to offer. I think Jürgen keeps him down, not wanting him to shine too much. If the world got whiff of the true talent in that guy, they’d expect more from the rest of them.”

“Something like that,” I replied.

Brigid and her friend didn’t stay long. The guys and Sheri, minus Connor, came in to join us maybe twenty minutes after they’d left. We ended up grabbing a booth.

Phil pulled me onto his lap as we sat down.

“I missed you today,” he said softly in my ear.

Smiling, I popped a quick kiss on his mouth. “I missed you, too.”

An hour later, Lewis came in and had a beer, letting us know we had reservations at the fusion restaurant in an hour. Lili, Alys, and I decided to head up to the rooms and shower, leaving the guys to get their buzz on.

“Does Connor know about dinner?” I asked as we piled into the elevator.

“We can always find out,” replied Alys.

We headed to his suite before branching off toward our own. I knocked on the door, hearing muffled crashes and laughter.

“What the hell is he up to in there?” Alys laughed.

Connor finally answered with a sheet wrapped around his waist and a shit-eating grin on his face. “Hey,” he said, his voice hitting a baritone pitch.

“Hey,” the three of us replied.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“We got reservations for that fusion restaurant,” said Alys, desperately trying not to devour the sight of him.

“So?”

What’s with his fucking attitude?

“So, Lewis got us a table for thirteen at a posh-ass restaurant,” Lili snapped at him.

A woman who was not Quinn and not wearing a stitch of clothing came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his tapered waist.

Alys gasped softly, and Connor’s eyes hardened at her.

“I’m busy,” he said. “Maybe next time.”

“Next time?” Alys echoed, her voice pinched in her throat.

“Connor!” That was definitely Quinn.

“Dude, tell me you’re using protection,” I said.

“Seriously, Kenna,” he retorted, rolling his eyes.

“Come on, Connor,” said the brunette, her face all sulky. “We’re having fun. Don’t go.”

He turned a smarmy look on us. “You heard the little lady. Gotta go.”

“Who is she?” whispered Alys.

“What fuckin’ business is it of yours?” he snapped before slamming the door in our faces.

Lili had many talents. One of them was the ability to pull a face that was both disgusted and impressed at the same time. “What was that all about?” she asked, her tone holding the same two qualities.

Alys, on the other hand, appeared horrified. It was no wonder, as Lili’s question had been directed at her. Connor had been rude to all of us, but he’d certainly taken his frustration out on sweet Alys.

Her features hardened. “Fuck if I know. Come on. Let him live the life of a fucking rock star, the douche.”

She took off down the hall to her suite, leaving Lili and me to stare after her.

“That gave me a weird feeling, Kenna.”

“You and me both, Pygmy.”

Connor might have sold us out, but Devon happily joined us for a seven-course dinner. Brigid had had an invitation extended even though none of us truly wanted her there, but no one was surprised that she’d declined.

Dinner was fabulous. Food, booze, and laughter flowed freely. Alys seemed to have forgotten all about Connor’s rudeness. She and X were cuddled up close, just being overall adorable.

Squished in between Phil and Devon, I kept laughing at their antics. Sheri sat on Devon’s other side, and I noticed a few stony glares from Jason when Devon would engage her in conversation. I was under the impression they both liked each other, so I was a little surprised by Jason’s barely there animosity.

“She slept with Devon a few times way back in the day before she and Jason became more…exclusive,” Phil whispered.

What? Is he reading minds now?

After the most amazing chocolate-mint mousse, we all decided to hit up the casinos. Phil and Jason headed for a poker game while Lili and Lewis made for a craps table. Alys and X went off somewhere as Flipper and Viv went in search of a blackjack game. That left Devon, Sheri, and me heading for the bar.

Taking a seat, Devon called Brigid to make sure she was doing all right.

“It was great. You should’ve joined us. I know that, but you never will be unless you get over it and try to make friends with them. They invited you, right? They wouldn’t do that unless they meant it…”

Sheri and I locked eyes and repressed grins at that point. That was exactly what we had done.

When Devon hung up, he took the stool to my right.

“How’s she doing?” I asked.

“Better. I think she’s looking forward to going home. This trip didn’t really turn out to be the joyous reunion we’d hoped for.”

“What do you mean?” asked Sheri.

We both gave her incredulous looks.

She rolled her eyes. “What was supposed to be so joyous about your reunion? I mean…you guys were just friends, right?”

“Yeah, but we were thinking that maybe we could be more,” he replied.

“So, that’s no longer an option?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to start a romantic relationship right out of something fucked up like this. She obviously still has feelings for Phil even if she says she has feelings for me. It just makes it hard for me to want to be involved with that. I haven’t bothered having a relationship with a woman in years, and when I finally do, I don’t want to be a fucking rebound.”

“I guess that’s not a mutual decision,” I said.

Sadness flooded his face. “No. I told her that we should wait and see how things go.”

“How did she take it?”

“She stormed off for a few hours, but she came back. She said she understood and hoped that I would change my mind. I told her maybe I would, in time.”

“Do you love her?” I asked.

“That’s a bit of a loaded question there, Doc.”

Sighing, I turned my attention back to my beer.

“I think I could have. There are times when I’m with her, and it’s fantastic,” he said softly.

Next to me, Sheri nodded. “There were times when Brigid was sweet and fun to be with,” she said, stirring her mojito. “When I called her my friend. I don’t know what it was, but she changed. Became mean and bitter. Toward the end, I just couldn’t take her bad-mouthing my friends and talking to them like they were trash.”

“I know what you mean,” said Devon. “She was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. Her brain just works on a different level. She really can’t help it, and I know it doesn’t excuse her behavior, but it might help explain it better. She goes through self-destructive cycles, tears down friendships when they start to get too close. Deep emotions leave her feeling vulnerable.”

Whatever the case, Brigid must’ve left her meds back in Amsterdam because she was borderline certifiable in my book. Admittedly, I was heavily judgmental with regard to Brigid Von Douche Bitch.

But Devon cared enough about her to try to understand the reasons for why she was the way she was.

He must love her. No one would put up with that sort of shit if they didn’t. I wondered if he even realized it himself.

“Are you going back with her to Amsterdam?” I asked.

He shook his head. “She goes back on Monday, and I’ll head there on Friday. There are a few things that I need to take care of first, or I’d be going with her.”

“Does she have anyone in Amsterdam? Friends? Relatives? I thought she was from Switzerland.”

“She is. She moved to Amsterdam a few years back. She’s got a sister there. Her parents…” He seemed uncomfortable about saying anything else.

I nodded. “You don’t need to tell us, Devon. Her business is none of our own.” I wouldn’t want Phil telling people my private history, so I should respect the fact that Devon didn’t want to spill the beans on Brigid.

“You know, that’s an amazing quality you have, Kenna. It makes me wish you weren’t taken with the Ragin’ Cajun.”

“You know, if he catches you talking to me like that, he’ll break your hands,” I said.

His turquoise eyes grew serious, dark. “If I didn’t love him so much, I would’ve fought for you. You’re a rare type of woman. Don’t ever forget that.”

Next to me, Sheri coughed, and Devon picked up his beer.

“Well, that wasn’t awkward,” said Sheri under her breath.

We drank in silence for a few minutes, and the Ragin’ Cajun himself showed up, wrapping his arms around me. “Hey, have you seen X?”

“He and Alys went off somewhere,” said Sheri. “Why?”

“Nothin’. Just curious.”

He ordered a drink and joined us. Jason came over soon after, and Connor showed his freshly laid self, grinning like a moron from ear to ear.

“Did you fuck the nasty out of your system then?” I hissed, glaring at him.

His cheeky smile faded.

As it should, the douche.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that.”

“You were really rude to Alys, Connor. That was unacceptable,” I whispered, not wanting the others to overhear.

Flushing, he nodded. “I know. I’ll tell her I’m sorry.”

Since everyone seemed to be showing up, we decided to leave the bar in favor of a VIP booth. Lewis and a beaming Lili joined us, informing us that she had won over five thousand dollars at a craps table.

“She was on fire!” Lewis laughed.

Connor got up to allow Lili to slide in when X and Alys came back.

“Where the fuck have you two been?” asked Flipper.

X pulled Alys into his arms. “Everyone, if I may…I’d like to introduce you to Mrs. Alys Sunshine Johnson, who as of an hour ago, agreed to become my wife!”

Stunned silence. And then—

“Fuck yeah!” boomed Phil’s voice.

The guys exploded, jumping over the table to get to the newlyweds and give them their hearty congratulations. Well, all of them did, except for Connor, who looked as though he’d been punched in the nuts.

Lili shot out of the booth. “You bitch! Why didn’t you tell us? We were supposed to be your bridesmaids!”

Alys burst into laughter, her eyes sparkling brightly. Making my way out of the booth, I hugged her with Lili.

“Ring? Did he at least get you a ring?” demanded Lili.

He had. A six-carat diamond on a platinum band. X had a thick platinum band for himself.

Snapping out of it, Connor clapped X’s back, gave him a hug, and made an excuse about needing the restroom. No one but myself noticed his sneaky move. Outside the lounge, he headed for the elevators, not the restrooms.

“Alys—” I started to say quietly.

“We’ll celebrate later,” she said softly, cutting me off. “I…”

“You chose X, Alys. There’s nothing wrong with that,” I whispered in her ear as I hugged her tight. “Don’t feel bad for loving someone enough to marry him.”

The look she gave me when I pulled back was closed off, and I ached because she didn’t trust me with whatever it was that was going on inside her. But that was her choice to make, too.

I tried to slip away, but Phil took my hand. “Where are you goin’?”

“Um, I was just…”

Whatever he saw in my eyes, he understood, and his own gaze drifted toward the exit where Connor had walked through. We gave the happy couple our congratulations once more, telling them we’d be back. Devon decided to come with us.

“I want to check on Brigid,” he explained.

“I saw her today,” I stated. It surprised me, the words just popping out of my mouth, and suddenly, a weird feeling overtook me. “She came into the bar this afternoon.”

Devon gave me a startled look. “What was she doing there?”

“She met someone, a girl with short black hair. She completely ignored us, so…I didn’t really think much of it.”

“At what time?”

“Maybe three?”

He nodded. “Yeah, she left around then. What’s up with your brother? He seemed upset about Alys and X.”

Phil stiffened, his hand tightening around mine.

“Oh, you know, Alys is like a sister to him, just as much as I am. Maybe running off and getting married without telling us bothered him.”

Devon’s perfectly arched black brow rose up. “Oh. Yeah. I’m sure that’s it.”

The elevator ride up to our floor felt strained. Phil’s head was practically shouting at me for not telling him about whatever had happened between Alys and Connor. Not like I could, considering I didn’t even know myself.

I spotted Connor sitting with his back against the wall next to his suite door, his head in his hands. He was a sad figure depicting abject defeat.

“Kenna…” whispered Phil.

I stepped out of the elevator and headed toward my miserable baby brother.

“Give her a minute,” Devon quietly told Phil.

“Connor?” I wanted to give him the option of turning me away.

His green eyes, my eyes, looked up at me, and I knew what I would look like if Phil ever ran off and married someone else—broken, lost, adrift in an endless torrent of misery.

How did I never see this between them?

“Oh, sweetheart,” I whispered, going down on my knees and pulling him into my arms.

His head rested against my chest, his arms squeezing me tight.

“It’s all my fault,” he choked.

Phil’s presence burned behind me, hot waves of energy pulsing off him. Down the hall, I heard the soft click of Devon’s door as it shut behind him.

“Why don’t we go in your room?” I asked quietly. “We can get out of the hallway.”

“They’re in there,” he whispered, his voice full of regret with possibly a healthy dose of self-loathing.

Then, it happened.

Time turned thick, viscous. The very air of the world grew heavy, and adrenaline spiked through me.

“Fuck! Help!” It was faint, entombed within a suite designed to contain sound. The fact that one could hardly hear it did nothing to diminish the horror behind it.

Jerking back from Connor, I turned my stunned face to Phil, whose eyes had gone wide.

A heartbeat. Two.

Devon burst out of the suite. “Somebody! Help!” he screamed.

All three of us tore down the corridor toward Devon, Phil’s huge self with his long legs getting there ahead of us.

“It’s Brigid—”

“Call nine-one-one!” I told him, running in and finding her on the floor.

Time slowed to a trickle.

Lucy’s voice echoed through my head.

“Dr. Kenna? I’m stuck.”

Brigid lay there, her face and lips tinged blue with foamy white vomit pooled beneath her cheek. Her eyes were half open, and the pupils…they were only black voids, the pretty blue of her irises a thin ring.

Digging my room key out of my pocket, I held it out to my brother. “Connor, get my medic bag. It’s in my suite next to the couch. Hurry back.”

Devon was hysterical, screaming and crying. Phil had his arms locked around his struggling friend, a mask of utter anguish on his face.

“Call nine-one-one,” I said again. “And stay on the phone, Phil. Devon, fucking calm the fuck down.”

Then I was running. In the bathroom, I found towels to wipe the vomit from her face. After I did that, I proceeded with chest compressions. Within a few minutes, Connor returned with my bag.

“What do you need?” he asked.

“Gloves. You put on a pair, too. She has a needle in her arm. I think her lungs are filled, but we might be able to clear the airway.”

Once I had the gloves on, I made Connor step back as I removed the needle from the vein and placed it on a nearby surface where it wouldn’t stick anyone. Turning Brigid on her left side, I attempted to clear the vomit from her throat. Connor assisted me, holding her mouth open and pinching her nostrils.

“Clean her mouth with an alcohol swab. Under the lips, too. Check the swabs for blood,” I instructed while rolling her onto her back once more. “There’s a CPR mask in the bag—pear-shaped, red plastic case,” I told him, compressing.

Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen…

Thirty chest compressions later, Connor fitted the mask over Brigid’s face.

Two breaths.

Thirty compressions.

Two breaths.

The world was in slow motion, time drip, drip, dripping by. Brigid’s body swayed lazily under my hands with each pump I applied to jumpstart her heart. Looking at Brigid, I saw my mother, and I swore to myself I would bring her back.

“You aren’t supposed to heal me, Kenna.” My mother’s voice breached through the years. “It’s my fate.”

A single fat tear leaked out of Brigid’s half-mast eye, rolling into the hair at her temple, a slip of liquid that held a universe of grief that I’d never know.

Two breaths.

My enemy…this woman had earned my hatred, had cherished it, and I was fighting for her life as I would have for the woman who had given me mine.

Brigid’s eyes, black holes that had once singed me with burning contempt, were vacant. The spark of life was lost to the void, so far down into the black holes. I couldn’t see how I could ever find her to bring her back out.

Thirty compressions.

Two breaths.

I’d never know for sure how long I fought to save her, only that Connor grabbed me as the EMT crew came in. Sinking into Connor’s arms, exhausted, sweaty, I leaned my back into his chest, letting his strength hold me up. My ears rang. Through the tinnitus flare-up, I heard voices as though they were underneath the surface of a great body of water.

Except Lucy’s. Her voice sounded like a bell in my mind.

“Dr. Kenna? I’m stuck.”

“Dr. Kenna? I’m stuck.”

“Dr. Kenna? I’m stuck.”

Across the room, my eyes met Phil’s, showing me shock, devastation and pain.

Devon screamed out the dead girl’s name as he crumpled in Phil’s arms. His hands went up to cover his face as he broke into uncontrollable sobs. Phil had him. Phil had a whole world of love for anyone who needed it. His hugs were powerful voodoo.

In my head, I heard the conversation I’d had with my mother in a dream the night she’d passed away.

“You’re mad! You’ve gone insane!”

“Nope!” My mother laughed. “I’ve gone dead.”

There was nothing I could’ve done to bring Brigid back. Brigid was dead before we’d arrived. My hands tingled with the memory of her cool body swaying beneath them.

By whatever means, whatever road Brigid was on now, it was not here. She’d left this world behind.

Phil

My Baby Girl was singing under her breath.

Kansas.

Kenna was singing “Carry On Wayward Son” and humming the guitar riff, too. Of course she fuckin’ was. This was Baby Girl. She knew any and every song on the planet worth knowing.

After the EMTs had carried Brigid out, Connor had helped Kenna to her feet, and they’d sat quietly on the couch. Police had come with the 911 call, asking us all sorts of questions. They wouldn’t let Devon go with the ambulance. There had been no point.

Brigid was already gone.

I’d seen how hard Kenna had tried to bring life back into the girl I’d once known. Controlled, each movement she’d made was calculated to optimize Brigid’s chances of survival. In the end, it hadn’t mattered. Brigid had made sure of that. She’d injected enough heroin to kill even me, and on top of that, she had left a suicide note for Devon.

She’d had no intentions of ever coming back.

The cops had bagged up Brigid’s needle. Thank God Kenna had had the foresight not to touch anything without putting on gloves. It was actually one of them who’d found the note Brigid had written and left folded on the dining room table.

Dawn was creeping its way in before we were finally able to return to our own room, Kenna singing Kansas.

“Will you shower with me?” I asked her.

She nodded.

Standing before her, bone-weary and naked with the hot water spraying over us, I broke down. My heart hurt, and I sank to my knees to rest my head between my Baby Girl’s breasts. She filled me with her strength and love, just letting me pour my heart out in her arms.

“Kenna…” I choked.

Her fingers slid through my wet hair.

She hadn’t liked Brigid Von Deitrich, but she understood that Brigid had meant something to me, and she didn’t hold that against me.

Soft gray light filtered through the window as we climbed into bed. As we wrapped around each other, I was safe in her arms, and I fell asleep before she did.

“Baby Girl, wake up,” I said, gently shaking her shoulder.

The poor woman must’ve been beyond exhausted. Usually, I could get her up pretty quickly.

Sheri had been blowing up my damn phone, finally waking my ass up. When I had finally answered, she’d sounded like she’d been ugly-crying for a while.

“Wake up Kenna, and come to our room, Phil. It’s important,” she’d said.

After the night we’d all had, I didn’t think I could handle much more crap. I felt waist-deep already, emotionally strung up and wrung out, and I was just ready to go home.

“Kenna,” I said a little louder.

“Uhngh…” she half-grunted, half-whined.

“Emergency.”

Her eyes weren’t even open as she sat up. “What’s goin’ on?”

“I don’t know. Sheri said we had to wake up and come to her and Jason’s room.”

“Time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

Grunting, she slowly made to get out of bed. Taking pity on her half-asleep state, I picked her up and walked her into the bathroom where she plopped her ass on the toilet. Her eyes drooped shut and stayed shut, even after she’d finished.

If it keeps on rainin’, levee’s goin’ to break. When the levee breaks, I’ll have no place to stay…”

Normally, it would make me smile, hearing her sing, but this gave me goose bumps.

“Kenna?”

“Yeah, Phil?”

“Come on, Baby Girl. We gotta go.”

“Why do I have to go to a band meeting? I’m only bangin’ the singer,” she snapped.

That made me laugh. “Yeah, I don’t know. Sheri said you had to, too.”

Vacation. Not supposed to be this tired on fucking vacation. Allowed to sleep in,” she grumped.

Shit, she must seriously be out of it, too tired to use all the words needed to make complete sentences.

“We’ll come back after and get straight back into bed. I promise.”

Heaving a huge sigh, she stood up and flushed. Then, she walked to the sink to wash her hands and face and brush her teeth. I couldn’t help but admire how incredibly beautiful and natural she was, walking around naked in front of me.

Baby Girl didn’t even put on underwear. She just pulled on her jeans and a black tank top and twisted her hair up. She looked so fuckin’ cute, her eyes still not able to fully open, pillow creases etched into the left side of her face.

Unable to resist, I pulled her into a tight hug. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. Let’s do this.”

Out in the hall stood Flipper, Viv, and Connor.

“What the hell is goin’ on?” I asked.

Connor shook his head. “We all just got here.”

He knocked on the door, and Alys, her face streaked with tears, answered.

“You guys—” she choked, looking for and finding Kenna, throwing her arms around her. “Lili and Lewis are already here.”

Enough of this shit!

I stormed into the suite, finding X on his knees in front of the TV. His hands were fisted in his hair, and he had a pained, shocked look on his pale face.

“What the fuck is goin’ on?” I asked, starting to freak out.

X turned wide electric-blue eyes on me. “Phil…” he whispered, his voice breaking.

Looking at the TV, I didn’t know what I was seeing. My brain felt as though it was liquefying along with everything that was on the screen.

“…levees failed. Hurricane Katrina…worst natural disaster. New Orleans…”

“Is that…” I gasped.

Sheri came in from the bedroom, her face red, blotchy, and swollen. Jason followed right behind her. Tim, Lewis, and Lili sat on the couch, dumbstruck.

“Shut the fuck up!” shouted Flipper as they walked in behind us. “Is that home?”

Mean old levee taught me to weep and moan…” Kenna sang under her breath.

A shiver crept down my spine—not the good kind either. Sometimes, my Baby Girl would say things that only weird hippie kids knew.

Looking down into her eyes, I knew the song had just come to her, like they came to me. Something had whispered it into her soul, and like any other song stuck in someone’s head, it had to be sung.

My eyes poured while hers were dry. Even though I saw her pain, she stuffed it down deep, singing sweetly to it in her soul.

“Cryin’ won’t help you, praying won’t do you no good,” She continued singing.

“When the levee breaks, mama, you got to move,” I sang softly to her.

“Everyone’s safe,” Sheri said softly.

“The Lower Ninth Ward is gone. The levee breached at the Industrial Canal. Houses aren’t just flooded. They’re submerged. We’re talking thousands of homes, people…” Tim said weakly.

Kenna gasped.

The people, the lives.

How many were lost?

“Gavin and Frank! Brian!”

Oh God, please let them be okay. Please let them be alive. Don’t take any more people from her. She’s lost so many already…

Taking a deep breath and then another, she willed herself into a calm frame of mind. It was a rare thing to see her almost lose her shit, and I’d witnessed that only a small handful of times.

Seriously, how the fuck does she do that? I’m fuckin’ shakin’ and bawlin’, freakin’ the fuck out. When has she ever just fuckin’ lost her shit?

When she couldn’t hear my voice, when I didn’t stand up for her in front of Brigid, after Brigid had her autograph that magazine…

Damn. She really only lost her shit over me.

“We’ll find them, Baby Girl.” I could barely get the words out.

She nodded. “I know.”

Pulling her into my arms, I wanted to be the one who comforted her, but I fuckin’ broke all over again. Brigid’s dead face flashed in my head. New Orleans on TV, swept away by the storm surge, all that we had worked so hard to come home to, worked so hard to build…it was gone. My family was probably homeless. All our families…

The weight of it drove me to my knees, and I pressed my face into Kenna’s belly and wept.

Kenna stood strong, taking my grief into herself. In that moment, if the world had truly threatened to fall, I had no doubt my Baby Girl would hold it up.


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