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Mitzy thumbed a corner of the little black notebook she pulled out, sandwiched between the side of the bookshelf and the stucco wall. Dust swirled into the Sunday morning light. She initially thought it was one of Max’s journals, one of the many things in his life that he would start but never finish, much like their relationship. Their five-year romance ended with a confession that he had fallen in love with a girl he met at the bus stop.