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Magazine.

Continuing: My father's secret second family showed up at his funeral. His other daughter is my best friend — Page 5

She closed her eyes.

"Since before you were born."

The cemetery spun around me. Emma caught my arm.

"I need to sit down," I whispered.

We ended up in a coffee shop three blocks from the funeral. Me, Emma, and two women who apparently shared a husband for three decades.

My mother spoke first.

"We met when I was twenty-two. He was already married to Patricia. He told me after our third date."

"And you stayed?" I couldn't hide the disgust in my voice.

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