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Dinner

Author: Jules Golden
last update publish date: 2026-04-05 17:14:25

CHAPTER 19

My mother made pasta.

She always made pasta when she was worried about something. It was the meal that required enough attention to keep her hands busy without requiring enough thought to stop her mind from running. By the time I arrived at seven the kitchen smelled like garlic and something simmering and she was stirring a pot with the focused energy of someone who needed to be doing something with her body.

She hugged me too long at the door again.

I let her.

My father was at the
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