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I write to tell you, josef, that your wife is dead. On christmas night the guards shot her on the road at the border. She carried Pavel your baby son, and my grandson on her back. And the guards shot him too. Your wife and son are dead. Your "friends" came and told me yesterday. You have Jan, and a new life in englend. And what do I have? Nothing. You took me my family away from me, and now my daughter and her baby are dead because of you. Don't write to me and don't come back to prague. I never want to
see you or hear from you again. Stanislava
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