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Chapter 11

“You do.God,you do.”Roger ground his cigarette out in the ashtray,filling the car with the smell of burnt nicotine and ash.Then he fell silent,glaring at the road through the windshield as he drove,the conversation over as far as he was concerned.

Minutes passed,each one as long and as lonely as a funeral procession.When Roger turned offthe main road and Wes recognized his own street,he felt a sudden nervous dread curl into the pit of his stomach.Why can’t I be back at Tom’s?