of that glass. I wanted to be the one who decided. And I told myself I’d never be like that teller.”
He looked at the shoebox on the table.
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“And then I came down here,” he said. “And I looked at you. In your boots. With dirt on your hands. And I saw…” He couldn’t finish.
“You saw your grandmother,” I said.
He nodded. Tears were running down his face now.
“And I did to you exactly what that teller did to her,” he whispered. “Exactly. Word for word. ‘Do you






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