After a long time Da wobbled away from his friends, past the tables, and out of the door, and I jumped down to follow him. It was almost like he had forgotten I was there, except obviously he hadn’t. I was the whole point of him coming back alive again. When I caught up with him he held on to my arm, and as we walked he kept stumbling and yanking it so hard I thought it was going to come out of its socket. I didn’t care. If he had torn my arm away from my body and kept it for himself, I wouldn’t have minded. I would have said, “You can have the rest of me too. The other arm, and both my legs,
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