156 He followed, “Um, is it okay if we talk in private for a few minutes somewhere?” Cathy was quick to reply. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. In fiction you make the Chinese secretive, criminal, and terrible—or comic. The area in front of the jail was completely filled. She exhaled, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders and arms.
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