She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. Her eyes noted it mercilessly. She was new, unlike any other woman he had met in all his wide travel. 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. A simple wooden monument was placed over the grave, but without any name or date. She began to miss him when he was gone during the day and cherish the quiet times he spent only with her. Click the link below to join and download your free copy of FATED FOLLY http://eepurl.
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