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his graduation gown, still, scrolling through messages from people he’d never met who had seen a video clip of his speech.
“Grandpa texted,” I said.
He looked up. I showed him the phone.
He read it. Handed it back. “Is that supposed to fix it?”
“I don’t know what it’s supposed to do.”
“Do you think he means it?”
“Maybe. Or maybe he doesn’t like being the continue reading …
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