“Knox?” Dad’s voice stops me. Footsteps follow until he’s framed in the kitchen doorway, a bottle of Bud Light in one hand. The faint yellowish glow of our light fixture deepens every crease in his face. “How was the wedding?” “Oh.” I’m blank for a minute. The wedding already feels like it was months ago. “It was…good, I guess. You know. As good as it could be, under the circumstances.” He nods heavily. “Yeah. Sure.” “Nate was there,” I add. “He looked good. He was joking around, didn’t seem like he was in too much pain or anything.” I clear my throat. “It’s really great, what you’re doing for
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