Angelina and John, she and Jonah, the mystery, the curse, the riddle . . . Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound. I just regret. I've made a career of it, here, behind this wall. If Angelina lingers, she lingers for him. For the soldier man. Vague knowledge drifted just out of her reach, as nebulous as early morning fog. She let it go, not attempting to grasp it . . . The note. John's betrayal . . . Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound. My mama, she didn't know how to read, but oh, did she know how to sing. Clara’s eyes widened as she stood up straight, blinking into the quiet street in front of
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