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“Why are you showing me this?” I gasped, turning away from Younger Addie and Ducky. The memory was almost too painful to witness.

Bitch Me - B.M. - shrugged. Or B.M. could stand for Bowel Movements. Either name was fitting.

“He was strong without your help, and he will continue to be strong. They all will. It’s not like you have been the best friend or the best girlfriend.” Her lips contorted into a sneer, though I couldn’t tell if it was directed at me or herself. Or us. Damn. This was really beginning to confuse me.

“Why are you saying that?”

“Because I want you to understand that they will be fine without you. It may hurt for a little bit, like a pesky bee sting, but they will survive. So now you need to decide, for yourself, whether or not you want to stay or go.”

Her words held a vague coherence. Memories, slightly blurred, pounded against my mind, demanding to be let free. There was something I had to remember, something important. Once I could recall that, I would better be able to understand the proposition B.M. was giving me. However, the memory faded like words etched into the shoreline. A wave would always come and eat them away.

I latched mechanically onto one of the last things she had said instead of focusing on all of the unknowns.

“You’re wrong,” I stuttered out. A breeze from one of the many broken windows sent goosebumps up and down my arms. I wrapped them around myself, both for warmth and comfort.

B.M. cocked her head to the side.

“I’m wrong? How am I wrong?”

“Declan will die.” When she merely blinked rapidly at me, I hurried to explain. “He’s allergic to bees. So if stung, he will die.”

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