Harrison’s POVMother moved from topic to topic without pause, but nothing she said touched the real reason I was sitting at her table.For twenty more minutes I let it happen.Her voice filled the kitchen in the same way I had known my entire life. It moved through the room easily, the way it always had. Certain that the world made sense if you managed it properly.I wrapped my hands around the blue mug and let the warmth sink into my palms.Sitting there, listening to her talk about ordinary things, I understood something quietly devastating.I was saying goodbye to this kitchen.She stood and walked to the shelves behind the counter. Dozens of books sat in neat rows. She kept them arranged by subject, labels titles forward like a display in a shop window. One book had shifted slightly out of line.She nudged it back into place.“You know,” she said casually, her back still turned, “it’s a shame about Estelle’s family.”I didn’t speak.“I mean—they tried, I’m sure,” she continued. “
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