She wasn't actually crying and, in fact, was probably incapable, which only made her more miserable.
"Did you run away from home?" he asked.
"Yes," she said.
"Why would you do that?"
"Because they don't want me."
"What happened?"
"My parents -- " She stopped. "The real me. Her name was Violet. She died. Cancer. They couldn't stand the empty bed and the empty room so they had me custom made."
"A replacement," he suggested. It was a ghoulish process, the way he heard.
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