At the shrine
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The boy nodded tearfully, suppressing a shudder. "She said it wasn't ... she said it was because my parents are, they're cousins." He was nearly sobbing. "But people say I'm, that I - and I'm not, and I wanted it all to stop." He gulped down a breath. "But I don't think I cut it right, and I don't want my hand to go bad. Please." He looked imploringly up at Simon, a gooey mixture of tears and snot collecting on his philtrum.