Edie had the sass of a Southern woman, and she gave me the impression that she was not the sort of person I’d want to mess with, yet there was also something childlike in her demeanor, in the almost immature melodramatic way she spoke of her life and explained her line of thinking. When I looked up her Facebook page, I found her wall littered with the song lyrics, memes, and brassy quotes of a girl much younger than she was, posted with the frequency of a teenager: “I try to make people feel loved and wanted because I know what it’s like to not feel loved and wanted.” “Raise your hand if you
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