Of course. I’d forgotten I have to pass my father’s church on the way to Hollow, and I can’t be fucked to deal with all the memories it drags up right now. When I arrived on the coast on Wednesday, I decided to do what I always do: head straight to the church even before dumping off my bags at the Visconti Grand hotel. Get all the anger and the bitter nostalgia out of my system before I dive into the family gatherings and the air kisses and the small talk. But then a certain somebody was already in my usual spot, and she proved to be quite the distraction. As I round the graveyard, I notice a
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