First Lines
Now
Standing in Jorge’s hidden garden, with its water-impoverished stand of willow trees, Carl wasn’t so much surprised as resigned. The Quinone family curse had struck again. This time it was in the form of a sealed glass booth, seven feet tall and three feet wide, set on an empty stretch of the Chihuahuan Desert—a trip to Looking Glass Road via Texas public lands.
A strange truth: Carl was now the only Quinone left living in Alpine.
“Goodbye,” Mama had said all those weeks ago, as though she were just heading out for another drive, as though there wasn’t a nurse standing nearby.
“Goodbye,” Jorge had repeated today.
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