Rodney R. Curtis, 29, from Kansas City, Missouri, is remembered in the simplest and hardest way: as someone whose life ended too soon, leaving behind questions that the available details don’t answer and a silence that can feel louder than any explanation. His gender is unknown based on the information provided, but his name remains—clear, human, and unmistakably real—attached to a loss that cannot be reduced to a line of text.
There is something uniquely painful about how little is
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