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... an standing in front of my mother’s grave.

He checked me from head to foot and then smiled. “You must be Kate’s daughter.”

I clenched my jaws. “I said who are you?”

He lifted his chin and his smile faded. “I could be an enemy or an ally. What do you want me to be?”

“It depends on your intention,” I said, gritting my teeth.

He chuckled. “You’re indeed a Foster. Bold and strong.”

I can now clearly see his face. He has thick eyebrows, long eyelashes, ...

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