The Healing of New York
The money order arrived on a Tuesday. It was for one hundred thousand dollars—ten times more than the Whitfields would have given James O'Connor in his entire lifetime as their family physician, which was to say not at all. They had never paid him. That was the first insult. The second was the way Reginald Whitfield had looked at him three weeks ago, when James had come to deliver the news that...
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