Fifty-One Hours
Part Twenty: The Fourteen People
Between the March and the following February I told fourteen people that my son had died during the delivery.
I have a list.
I made it in the November, on the back of an envelope, at my kitchen table, and it took me about forty minutes and it is the single most painful piece of paper I own, and it is more painful than the card with the footprints on it.
My sister Vesna.
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