Here was a hole as wide as a church-door. He had not remembered her as looking so small. When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. “No power on earth will persuade me we’re not two rather disreputable persons.
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