around a fence.
But now Walter Reeves sat across from me, the man I had stepped around in the alley for most of my childhood, and he was telling me the fence had never been where I thought it was.
“You’re lying,” I said.
My voice came out cold.
Walter nodded as if he had expected those words.
“I wish I was.”
“My mother would have told me.”
“She wanted to.continue reading …
