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Summary
When they bury Maeve Silver, her son is far from the rest of the modest crowd of mourners, sunglasses on his face as he leans back against the side of a shiny red sports car. Far away, carrying on a sweet smelling breeze that signified for all the world the coming spring, the voice of the pastor floats along the grass and Terry smiles as he pulls the cigar back to his lips, happy for his Mother, that she won’t live to see what becomes of them all.
