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We hugged, and she patted my back. I hoped the tears would stop welling up in her eyes soon. But, I was sure it would pass and we would keep on loving...each other.Mark was nowhere in sight. Daddy, still seated, had talked and cried himself out.I curled up in his lap."You're OK?" he stammered. "You ... and your Mother ... you had a talk? A good talk, I guess?"I nodded. "Yes, Daddy." I nuzzled his neck and kissed him over and over. He could say nothing through his tears and I just sat there curled. "How can you live with yourself? Knowing who you are? Knowing what youare?" he looked at the tip of his cigarette."I don't live with myself. I stopped living with myself just over twentyyears ago. That's when I became the librarian, keeping myself to myself,keeping silent and drowning my memories with drink every night," shelooked at the gravelly ground littered with decaying cigarette butts."I know who you were. That isn't in the dossier but I know," she couldhear the hatred in his. More

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