“In the months after her death he had heard her every day, yelling at him for not brushing his teeth for long enough or wearing a dirty shirt or not offering to help an older woman if he saw one, not that she would have ever accepted help herself. But with time her voice had grown softer and less precise, and he hated it. It was like losing her all over again. No one cared about him enough to yell at him now. No one existed who would bother.”
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