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Every Week, I Found Children’s Gloves on My Father’s Grave – One Day, I Met a Teenager There
For weeks, I visited my father’s grave, only to find small knitted gloves left behind, each one deepening the mystery. But the day I saw a teenage boy standing there, clutching another pair, I knew I had to uncover the truth. I stood in front of my father’s grave, my arms wrapped around myself to…