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Two weeks earlier, Aaron had told me what he planned to do.
It was 2 a.m., and neither of us had been sleeping much.
I found him sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of tea he had not touched.
The house had been too quiet for weeks.
Every room reminded me that someone was missing.
I walked in and saw a red piece of fabric folded across Aaron’s knees.
My stomach dropped.
« Aaron. »
He looked up.
His eyes were tired.
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