“I don’t believe there’s a reason all those bad things happened,” I whispered, forcing my gaze up to Wayne. “The accident, or your daughter’s death. Sometimes shit just happens. Horrible, cosmic-level shit. “But maybe sometimes things do happen for a reason too. In the gaps between all that. Like maybe the world tries to repair itself, to heal or just, like, adapt. What happened wasn’t your fault. A million different things had to go just wrong for that accident to happen, and I don’t have a good reason it worked that way. But a million different things had to happen just right for us to be
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