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As I walked into the condo that night, mentally rehearsing my arguments for staying in Orchard Hill, I started to wonder if I was emotionally deficient in some way. Was I really going to let the fact that Jake Graydon was staying here make my decision for me? He’d basically lied to me for months. He’d let me babble on about how much I missed my dad and ramble pathetically about how I had no idea where he was, and the whole time Jake had known. He’d known exactly where I could find my father, and he hadn’t told me. When I thought about the number of times he could have just said something, the number of times I’d made a fool out of myself in front of him, it made me want to break something.I slammed the door behind me so hard the old fashioned knocker on the outside of it—the one the designers had added to give the newly built condos that old-school Orchard Hill charm—swung and banged back against it. I took a breath and thought about Jake. Really thought about him. I thought about that thing he’d said on the night of Sha