Sonia Allison

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Even though we’d just met, I didn’t feel we were strangers. It was different from meeting new kids in school. We were more like train-jumpers who suddenly found themselves in the same railroad car; we shared an identity by the mere fact of being in “foster care,” a new term that would come to mean more than I had ever thought.
That Bird Has My Wings: The Autobiography of an Innocent Man on Death Row
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