I couldn’t quite figure out if Bryant was despicable or just pitiful. “So, you’re

worried that the truth about his mother’s death might set him off again?”

“Yeah.” Gary nodded, “The psychiatrist suggested we take it slow and wait

until Mr. Bryant’s feeling a bit better.”

“Okay.” My response was flat, devoid of any emotion.

I’d rather not deal with the Ferguson family’s drama anymore if it weren’t for

Timothy’s dying wish. But then, getting home and thinking about Bryant’s

plight stirred a faint sense of pity in me. That quickly evaporated, however, the

moment I remembered how he yelled at me in the hospital room. That scant

pity vanished without a trace.

I suddenly found myself loathing my inability to be more decisive, hating that I

couldn’t plan things better.

While I was lying on the couch, zoning out in sheer boredom, Christine

suddenly popped by.

door. “Why didn’t you just use your

to walk in on something I

her heels, and slipped into

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me. “Why the

was striking the snake at its head today.” I tossed her

into the couch, laughing at myself. “It turned out that

startled the snake instead.”

the poet today.” Christine unscrewed the

“Too bad I’m lost. Can you

up today.” I sighed,

behind Bryant’s mother’s death and was ready to

shipped off.”

I shared the

stays, and now, we’ve got an

eyes and sipped her juice. “But Bryant

curious. “Why

has he

a rant about Margaret’s family tree

she was oddly

to look at her and saw her eyes were all red. “What’s

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