When I was a child, I noticed a peculiar scar on my mother’s upper arm. It was a ring of small indents surrounding a larger one, and though it fascinated me for a time, I eventually forgot about it—like so many fleeting childhood curiosities. Years later, while helping an elderly woman off a train, I caught sight of a similar scar in the exact same spot. It sparked my curiosity anew. With no opportunity to ask the woman about her scar, I called my mother instead. Her response? A revelation that I’d already heard the answer before: the scar came...
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