Seventeen.

Seventeen.

The number of people who were killed Valentine’s Day 2018, by a man-child with an AR-15.

Seventeen.

The number of missed calls I had from my father on December 23, 2006, when I went to get my purse to go on my lunch break. It was a Saturday, and I was working part time at a department store between my day job and graduate school. We weren’t allowed to keep cell phones on us while we were on the clock.

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