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James tightened his arms around Liam, feeling the boy’s terror shudder through his small frame. The attic seemed to close in, the sloped ceiling bowing lower, the shadows thickening around the box everyone pretended not to see. That metallic tang in the air was memory made physical, the echo of a night when rain hammered the earth and the past clawed its way back up. He had told himself he’d protected his family by never speaking of it.
