Something else took hold, something stronger than the burning pain in my hand and my rage. It was instantaneous and involuntary. Call it an epiphany of sorts, if you will. Or heavenly intervention. Or something else beyond my ability to comprehend. With my hand tensed to strike, I stopped thinking about the William I was expecting to meet and instead put myself in his place. I thought about what had been done to him. He had had no say in what had befallen him, no say about the pain in his body, about being betrayed, about being left alone in a strange place, about being passed from stranger to
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