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Names; Naming

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“Listen to me, Mrs. Rosenberg,” her heavy face was flushed with excitement. “Let me take her. Why should she die, the innocent babe? I will care for her as if she was my own. I never had children, you know. Give her to me . . .”
One morning, when Paul was seven, I received a stat call to the emergency room . . . “Oh G‑d,” I pleaded in my thoughts, “Please, not this one. Not him.”
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