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... around his neck.
I lifted my face that was buried in his neck and looked at him.
I wanted to know what he was thinking now.
He looked desperate.
He, himself, doesn’t even know what he doesn’t remember, but he keeps wanting to know.
A man who knows nothing.
I felt my anger grow.
At least I wanted him to remember.
“It’s better if you don’t know.”
“Why?”
“Is there something you often say? It would be better not to know.”
Yeah, now I ...
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