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Excerpt 9

Will she, I asked the committee, feel part of the group, part of any group, if she’s living in a world where she can’t remember events, or remember what the question was, or remember who the person is who’s asking the question? Where she can’t even remember the people once significant to her…including herself?
I told the committee about the conversation Amy and I had had the day before her accident, when she’d told me that she needed her own place, and how we both had laughed when she said that our house would be perfect for her, if only her dad and I would move out. Amy, I told them, was no longer a child. Having to have her parents orchestrate her every move for the rest of her life wouldn’t just violate her privacy – it would violate her identity.
“She sounds like a very independent young lady,” the priest acknowledged.
“Yes,” I said. You don’t know the half of it.

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