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Blame would spread as far as it would go. Like pouring a can of paint down a hill. Most of it would end up at the bottom, but it would stain everything it touched on the way down.
He thought of half a dozen things he might have said to her. He said none of them. He watched her face. She was considering responses to all the things he could have said.
His contradictions were holding him together and tearing him to pieces.
