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A Short Story : The Story Of A Story

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“Exactly! Where was your mother?” I asked my question out loud not really expecting her to answer.
“I’m still working on that.”
“Humph.” She made a derogatory sound.
“I went for a walk down the pathway to where the block was in 1976, it’s now a housing estate, but then it would have been just trees and scrub-land, and it was also the end of Riverview Road. From there, the road came to a T-junction and then out of town. The road leads directly out to the farmhouse.”
Andi started to say something, but I quickly continued to circumvent her objections.
“It doesn’t make sense that she would have snuck out of her yard, lured out by a stranger. She was supposed to meet your dad at the fair, so she would have been excited about that and wouldn’t want to miss it.”
I took a sip of my coffee, allowing my words to sink in. “I think your dad met your mom.”
I looked at Andi intensely, wanting to judge if she would be able to handle my next words. I thought since there was no love lost between her mother and herself I would voice my theory. Her face showed little emotion so I continued.
“Perhaps your mom was either waiting for them at the block, or else she may have been the one to call Christine out of her yard, or maybe, she was already at the farmhouse, waiting for them. Either way, I need to talk to your mom and ascertain if she was involved in any way.”
“This is just guesswork on your part, you have no proof of anything.” She snatched her list from where I had put it down on the

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