Coming here still messed with my stomach. I could never eat the mornings before I came, and I couldn’t eat for hours afterward. In spite of what he’d done, I hated thinking about my dad stuck in this place for the rest of his life. For that matter, I hated coming at all. But I did because I was his son, and regardless of the fact that he was guilty as fuck of the crimes he was accused of—I stopped the line of thought before it got too far. The truth was, I didn’t know why I still came. Maybe I needed the reminder of what I didn’t want to become. Greed made people this way. Greed and
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