FeatherFace

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I remember our neighbor asking me, “How is your dad doing?” I answered truthfully, “Not great.” I think the neighbor sent him a card, or something, because my parents found out what I said. They both screamed at me. I remember sitting at the bottom of the stairs while my mom lectured me about privacy, and my dad shrieked “I’m fine!” at the top of his lungs into my face.
Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead
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