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And then, Vera disappeared.

Nobody missed her during those months of hell.

"She left me," was all Jackson would say.

The whole village owed him so much.

After all, hadn't Jackson worked tirelessly to box and bury their loved ones when they were too ill or too afraid to do so?

So many had lost so much.

What did one lady's disappearance amount to?

A grain of sand in a maelstrom.

A whimper in a hurricane.

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