The Glass Point
The thing about Jack Halloran was that nobody saw it coming. Not his wife. Not his commanding officer. Not the men who had served beside him at Belleau Wood and watched him take the shrapnel that took his arm and thought, this man is made of something that does not break. For six years after the war, Jack Halloran was the quiet one. The steady one. The man who sat on the porch of that Long...
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