So much left over, and not enough, not at all. It's about two in the morning, and I'm down in the basement at my dad's desk going through a drawer of old mementos. We've been doing this for the last few days: opening drawers and cupboards, sorting and cleaning, looking for the one item that will prove this is an awful mistake and bring her back to life. It's as if we expect to find a receipt we can take to the doctor: something broke. Take it all back.
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