I’d been left in charge of Bee for those two days, so my mother could go alone, which I’d thought strange at the time–she’d never gone anywhere without the two of us. Although not life-threatening for my sister, the cyst had always been part of her insecurity, and perhaps even contributed to the anxiety she’d always felt around others. It’d troubled my mother that we couldn’t afford to have it removed, with us not having insurance or any means of paying for it. A little over a week later was about the time when my mother had first started showing signs of illness that we’d thought might’ve
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