The support group met in the basement of a building that had, at one point, been a school. No church would accept them, no current school, no Y or rec center or even town hall – and it wasn’t like they had any question about why. They all knew why they were there, and it wasn’t like the name of their group, Over-eaters’ Anonymous, was actually fooling anyone.
They slipped in from separate entrances: through the floor, through the vents, a couple through one of the three doors into the old classroom….
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