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Chapter 48 Unrealized Denial

His photographs. His captured smiles in the camera lenses that we have made sure to secure in the hard copies kept well in many files of our family photo albums. 

“Gab, please hold the door.”

I heard Marco’s voice speaking to Gab in a gentle tone. I could tell it was not for his best friend that Marco used the tone. It was his expressed sympathy for me as I might have appeared mourning in his eyes. A feeling of grief would only fill me immensely when we are in this place.

My home. A home sweet home where my dad Ted and I used to live in perfect harmony as a father-and-daughter family. 

I realized why Marco had to ask Gab to hold the door only when he gently put me down on the three-seater couch in the living room, facing a fancy white Urn with

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