Cait Gorevin

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“The family,” he said. “The Mallens. Leave them be. They’ve suffered enough. Leave the family alone.” Ah, there was the word. “Family.” It was an old Irish word. It meant: “Do nothing. Challenge nothing. Change nothing.” Ireland was a rocky garden, dig a few inches deep and you found stone; solid and impassable. And carved into its face, as like as not; the word FAMILY.
Knock Knock, Open Wide
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