From that day on, I didn't say another word to Mom, Dad, or Reese.They began a long, painful performance of "atonement".Every day at 7:00 am, Mom would bring me a pot of beef stew she'd spent hours simmering. After pouring the stew into a bowl, she would blow on it to cool it down before bringing the spoon to my lips.But I would just keep my eyes closed, refusing to open my mouth or respond.Half an hour later, when the soup had gone cold, she would silently take it away and pour it out. The next day, she'd bring me a fresh bowl.Reese took it a step further and actually brought a cot so he could sleep right outside my hospital room.He used to be a fastidious scion, but now he was unshaven, with grime often staining his clothes.I heard he'd sold his sports car to cover my future medical expenses, borrowed money from several of his shady friends, and even gotten beaten up.Every day, he watched me through the glass with eyes full of humble desperation, hoping I'd spare him
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