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Like any city-dweller newly alone in the dark countryside, Etain realized that she suddenly believed in ghosts.
Memory was ephemeral. Hatred was a rock.
Oh, I’m going to fall for you, Betty thought to herself wearily. Fuck. I’m already in the air, plummeting down the side of the building.
Folie à deux, Ashling thought. Finally, a mother-daughter activity we can do together.
