It isn’t because you’re good, but because I may be rotten bad; and there’s something—something living and understanding in you. It was his mother, and as he gazed on her pallid features and motionless frame, Jack's heart severely smote him. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. FOREWORD Forever Fifteen was born of a dream I had in 2002, a dream that was part nightmare.
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