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“Yes, obviously,” Alex says. He glances at Cornbread and cringes. “Jesus Christ, it’s like they can see into your soul. Cornbread knows my sins, Henry. Cornbread knows what I have done, and he is here to make me atone.”
Through his throbbing hangover, he’s got a suspicion all these feelings are why he held off on fucking Henry for so long. Also, he might puke. It’s probably unrelated.

