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That almost made me turn around.
Peter had Jeffrey’s eyes.
I was 60
years old. I’d spent most of my life learning how to live without Jeffrey.
Then, 40 minutes earlier, my childhood landline had rung. Now I was about to see him again.Telephones
I pushed open the door. Jeffrey lay in the hospital bed. He was thinner than the boy I remembered. His hair had gone white. His face had changed.
But he was still Jeffrey.
He was thinner.
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