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Chapter 63

"Think about it, girl," he insisted.

The last thing I saw was her smile, before the door came between us.

On the stairs, we heard another scream from Claire, and Joane, ahead of me, let out a sorrowful groan.

"The damn treatment is supposed to help him." I heard her speak so softly, I wasn't sure if it was for me or her. She's supposed to be able to live with it. She—she reached the living room and plopped down on the sofa. But she's getting worse every day...

Her voice cracked and she covered her eyes, letting out a weary sigh.

"Did a father come today?" I inquired cautiously.

She raised her face to frown at me.

"Father Kenae, yes," she replied, confused. How do you know?

—M-my mother told me… And did he…? I pursed my lips, not sure how to phrase the question. I mean, are you sure she has… well, schizophrenia?

"Of course," he said with a certain austere note.

"And what did the father say?" I insisted. Did he see something strange in Claire? Something... different from the disease?

—F
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