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The Yacht Trip, The Memorial, And The Gift They Never Expected

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everything into a scene from a horror movie.

I climbed down the ladder, my bare feet finding each rung by instinct, and put my palm flat against the housing of the starboard engine. Still faintly warm. Not long shut off, then—maybe just a few hours. My head pounded relentlessly, but I forced myself to focus on the familiar shapes of hoses, belts, and continue reading …

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