“I’m not sure she ever thought about the shape of love at all,” the Crowder House interrupted. “The only thing she ever wanted was loyalty. And you were loyal to him. Do you see, Vera-baby? I couldn’t stop her from hating you. I couldn’t stop it. But I could soak it in, as much as I could stand. I could try to shelter you from it. Every time he loved you better—every time she had to swallow back her hatred, her resentment, her wish that you’d never torn your way out of her and into your father’s arms—every time, I tried to drink it down, so it wouldn’t touch you. Every time he drained off his
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