What the City Remembers
Slim got sick on a Tuesday. That was the first thing to go wrong. He was fourteen and had been sick before—chest colds, a broken finger from a mine cave-in that nobody reported because he was too young to work anyway—but this was different. He was shivering in the tent he shared with two other boys, the kind of shivering that made his teeth click together like castanets. Maggie O'Shea came to...
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