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Two Strangers Knocked During a Christmas Outage. The Moment They Gave Their Names, I Knew Something Was Wrong.

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off. I didn’t call it babysitting or help—I called it “supervised time,” which maintained the boundary I needed.

Leonard worked beside me in the garage sometimes, quietly handing me tools, never trying to take over or tell me how to do things. He watched my hands move, asked if I needed another screw or board, offered himself as an extra pair of hands continue reading …

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