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Summary
It was hard to explain, exactly.
A feeling. Walking into his room and his clothes not being where he left them, the bed messy and unmade. His favorite seat having a new indent in it. Mostly-empty bottles of condiments in the fridge, a spare pair of shoes by the doorway. A glimpse of bone as he walked up the stairs. His brother talking about things that Sans didn’t remember. Hearing people use his name for someone else.
A ghost living in their house.