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Chapter 7: The List

Vanessa wrote. Grant contributed names in short, reluctant bursts. The sheet filled faster than either of them seemed to expect: the locksmith, the bank officer, two neighbors, the man who had been scheduled to look at the truck, Vanessa’s friend from the real-estate office, and a cousin who lived three towns over. Each entry was another place where my father’s death had been announced as fact before breakfast. Dad stood at the window until they finished. Then he returned to the table, read the list once, and had both of them sign at the bottom while I dated the page.

“Retract every one before close of business,” he said. “I will check.”

They left without further speeches. The door closed on a silence that felt newly clean.

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