“Go to bed, Dad,” I say. “I’m okay.” “No, you’re not,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re not okay at all.” “All right then, I’m not okay. But it’s the middle of the night and you waking me up is kind of making everything less okay by the minute.” He makes a little sobbing sound. “I should kill myself. I should just drive off a bridge and make all your lives better.” “That’d be a waste of a good car. Especially if it belonged to Uncle Rick.” “I could park the car and jump.” “What bridge, though? There aren’t any around here high enough. You’d only just break your leg and then you’d be even
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