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my building.”

—”Mrs. Higgins,” I told her, “don’t rip it down. We need to read it.”

—”I already read it. It says pure nonsense.”

But the problem wasn’t the paper.

It was what came behind it.

The next day, Oliver knocked on the door of The Decent Soup House right as we were serving vegetable soup. He walked in without saying hello. He wore a white shirt,continue reading …