My hands were shaking before I even opened the box. The office janitor was dead, and nobody seemed to care. Nobody but me. For eleven years, they mocked our lunches, our quiet table by the window, our strange friendship. They called me names, joked about mop duty, and whispered behind my back, never realizing that the man they dismissed was the only person who truly saw me. Then I found the photos. The notebook. The letter. The last sentence unma… Continue Reading ⬇️
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