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It was the fall that had killed hi slide to the pool, where his body had wedged against a drain His legs were shattered, his chest caved in; otherwise, he looked the same Had he juht it to be; Sara wondered how much Kate had kept from her But it was not a question to ask

The s with Kate’s, Sara and Hollis could assemble less than half the amount owed Three days after the burial, Hollis took thein H-town that everyone still called Cousin’s Place, though Cousin himself had been dead for years Hollis hoped that this token of good faith, combined with his old connections, would square thehis head dispiritedly The players had changed; he had no clout "This is going to be a proble down at Sara and Hollis’s house Kate see seen co to witness In their young eyes, Bill was simply their father Their love for hie that he had, in a sense, shunned the a path that would take hirew, the wound would morph into a different kind of injury--one not of loss but of rejection Sara would have done anything in her power to spare the to do was hope that the situation would blow over Twoat the table in the kitchen, looking griirls, but Sara could see this was intended as a distraction; so serious had happened Hollis showed her the note that had been slid under the door In blocky handwriting, like a child’s, tords: "Adorable girls"

Hollis kept a revolver in a lockbox under the bed He loaded it and gave it to Sara

"Anybody coh that door," he instructed, "shoot theh that was the night Cousin’s Place burned to the ground In the , Sara ith Kate to the post office to mail the letter that would, in all likelihood, arrive in Mystic Townshipfor a visit, Kate wrote to Piirls can’t wait to see you

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Yes, I a I aood you have been to me Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris: "It is a comfort to the wretched to have companions in misery" When I think of you, Alicia, and e are to each other, I ae s, and the story hasthan you think In my boyhood town, there was only one It was a kind of clubhouse On a Saturday afternoon, escorted by my father, I entered this sacredThe odors of tonic, leather, talc The co aqua reen fields My father besidebarbered, lathered, whisked The owner of the shop had been a World War II boister hung a photograph of his young warrior self Beneath his snipping shears and buzzing razor, each sed a perfect siles, wrapped a scarf around his neck, and crossed the eaves of heaven to blast the samurai to smithereens

My turn arrived; I was su the witnesses I took my seat--a board balanced upon the chair’s chro his cape, shook out the curtain hich he meant to dress me, wrapped toilet paper aroundplastic That hen I noticed the mirrors One on the wall before me, one behind, and my likeness--a reflection of a reflection of a reflection--caroht forth an existential nausea Infinity: I knew the teraze into the heart of it, and to see my likeness stamped a million-fold upon its face, disconcerted me profoundly The barber, aged in lighthearted conversation withht somehow banish the others, but the effect was the opposite: I wasbehind him, ad infinitum, infinitum, infinitum