“I am so very sorry for your loss,” the woman told me. “I wish there were something I could do.”
I stood there in stunned silence, holding my phone in one hand and my four-year-old’s sticky paw in the other, attempting to process what she saying.
Can’t get them back.
At this point in my story, you may be wondering who died. Thankfully, all the Renshaws are, to my knowledge, alive and kicking …
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