The space around us evaporated, and for a weird moment I really liked my body;
this cancer-ruined thing I’d spent years dragging around suddenly seemed worth the struggle,
worth the chest tubes and the PICC lines and the ceaseless bodily betrayal of the tumors.
It was quite a different Anne I had known as my daughter. She never really showed this kind of inner feeling,” Otto Frank continued.
The kiss lasted forever as Otto Frank kept talking from behind me.
“And my conclusion is,” he said, “since I had been in very good terms with Anne, that most parents don’t know really their children.”
I realized that my eyes were closed and opened them.
Augustus was staring at me, his blue eyes closer to me than they’d ever been,
and behind him, a crowd of people three deep had sort of circled around us.
They were angry, I thought. Horrified. These teenagers, with their hormones,
making out beneath a video broadcasting the shattered voice of a former father.
I pulled away from Augustus, and he snuck a peck onto my forehead as I stared down at my Chuck Taylors.
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