Blackwater Val
So, Aaban would drive the nails in with the butt-end hammer of his survival knife, and he would plunge the knife’s serrated blade straight back into his own celestial-soaring heart.
Then, all would be well, and well again.
Aaban had telephoned his mother, Islamorada, to hear her voice one last time. He had assured her everything was fine here with his new sponsor family in this new land, telling her not to worry, that he loved her very much and that both she and father would be so proud if—
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