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when he broke, it was a miracle he managed to find all the pieces of himself again.
His world looked like a storm. I was going to be its center.
She would be what my mother was to my father: a source of comfort, the calm that grounded him. And I could be her guide, her protector.
And then there was America, her mouth stuffed with a strawberry tart, her eyes rolling like she was in heaven.
