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Joan Detlef slammed the screen door behind her. If the door were real glass instead of plexiglass, it would have shattered all over the front porch. Joan wished it had. She said out loud, "This time it's for good. This time I leave for good." She threw her suitcase in the back seat, slammed the big sedan into reverse, and roared away. She and Bill had stopped yelling half an hour before, but she was still fuming, raging, never so angry in her life. Never so hurt in her life. Never. Bill had retreated from their argument, and simply walked out the back door to the garden to pull weeds.

