He wasn't bad or anything. He didn't beat me and roared at me to get another bottle of alcohol; he didn't neglect me as if I were some excess luggage. He took genuine care in raising me up, and he had an honest job as a journalist. But if there was something that was off about Vic Sage, it would be the way he sometimes looked at me, which was filled with sadness and guiltiness. Not to mention his nightly activities where he would go out after checking that I was asleep.
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