My Family Members Are Dolls That Never Respond To MeChapter 7
The day I arrived in the southern seaport, it was drizzling.
The station was crowded.
As I wheeled my suitcase out, the wheels rolled through wet patches on the pavement, making soft, small sounds.
No one came to pick me up.
No one called my name in the crowd.
And strangely, I didn’t feel sad at all.
For years, I had been waiting.
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