The county had been discussing his death before he was even close enough to bury.
Annie kept her face still, though her stomach had gone cold.
“That is not the kind of thing a man says to a woman on a feed-store porch,” she said quietly.
Jonah’s expression did not change. “No. It’s the kind of thing a man says when he’s run out of time.”
A wagon rattled past in the road. Somewhere behind them, a screen door slapped shut. The world kept moving with the cruel indifference it always had for people on the edge of ruin.
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