“You don’t care I’m schizophrenic?” “I care that you get the support and medical care you need.” She shakes her head, reaching down and tearing off a piece of Levi’s half-eaten muffin, speaking around the treat. “I am not completely heartless. But no, I don’t care. It’s a mental illness, not the plague.” Her voice is like a breeze of honesty blowing away all the fake sympathy and advice I’d heard over the years. I feel her eyes on me, studying me like I’ve been doing with her. “Thanks.” “Don’t.” Coraline lets out a scoff, frowning. “Don’t thank me. It’s the bare minimum. It irritates me that
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