Once could be an accident. Twice might be a coincidence. Three times could, in theory, be the product of unlucky random chance. But nine times? That’s a curse. It comes from my wife’s side of the family, and by marrying her, I became infected with it, too. In fact, you could argue that I helped kick it off. It shows no signs of slowing down. Just this week, we had confirmation of a tenth recurrence. There’s no doubt about it now. Some higher power has definitely directed its wrath toward Lola’s bloodline. I have the proof.
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