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So many years I had spent as a child sifting his bright features for his thoughts, trying to glimpse among them one that bore my name. But he was a harp with only one string, and the note it played was himself.
You have always been the worst of my children, he said. Be sure to not dishonor me.
I have a better idea. I will do as I please, and when you count your children, leave me out.
