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from me, both hands flat on the surface, watching.
“Nobody asked if I’m okay,” I say.
He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to.
The answer is sitting between us like a stone.
Then my phone buzzes. A notification from the family group chat, the one I’m apparently still in. I open it and my stomach drops.
The messages come fast.
My mother types first.
“Myra lost continue reading …
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