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... king him with every dark window. Or maybe it was embracing him, whispering, "It’s okay not to be okay. Being alone doesn’t make you weak." And those whispered wrapped him into cold reassurance that at least he wasn’t alone.
He walked forward but he didn’t go through the front door. No, that felt wrong. Instead, he slipped around back, past the wild garden, until he found them.
The graves.
His mom and dad—buried in cold stone and forgotten memories.
He sat down by ...
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