The knock on the door came every Sunday, a minute past six in the morning. Through experimentation, I knew if it got to half past he'd stop, but most Sundays I wasn't willing to put up with it, so I would answer. He'd ask the same thing every time, if I wanted to go to church with him. I tried politeness, logic, anger, random noises and even sarcasm to get him to stop, sarcasm being a particularly bad idea since he took me on face value and practically dragged me.
And there I met her, and things got more complicated.
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