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The Signature

One thing did stand out—the black pen scrawl cutting through the center of the page was his Grandfather’s signature. Luke would know it anywhere. The curl in the “C,” the confident underline. “Carl Jensen,” it read, as real as any birthday card he’d ever received. The idea that Grandpa wrote this… nonsense? It didn’t add up. “Why would he do this?” Luke whispered to himself.
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