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Chapter 213: Celeste

Helped a friend with his sick grandson today. Reminded me of when I kept you home from that tennis match.

I message Rosemary from the parking garage before I drive home to my empty house, full of echoes and ghosts. Rosemary’s room, for instance, is still filled with neatly labeled bins of her childhood things. Top of the line sports equipment that never got used. Walton always insisted she play tennis, and she loathed the sport.

I think it made her anxious to ...

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