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Talia funeral angst for Damian
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Talia placed another tomato into the large wooden bowl. Her face stayed calm, almost plain. “I am dying.”
She said it the same way she might comment on the weather or simple things.
Damian froze for half a second. “I know I have been teaching you modern humor, Mother, but that is not the context—”
“Damian, I am dying.”
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