“The road cut right into the forest and she thought it ironic. All these huge trees growing so close to the mill, standing sentinels, watching as the logging trucks brought in their fallen brethren to meet their fate. Not much had changed, no. That is, not until she saw the mammoth gates blocking her path. Beyond the ten-foot wire fence stood a multitude of buildings. Most, she assumed, were the plants Greg had been describing, as smoke billowed out through massive chimneys. She frowned, imagini...ng the pollutants being sent into the once clean air of Pine Springs. She stopped at the gate and waited until the guard walked over. “May I help you, ma’am?” “I’m Jacqueline Keys. I have an appointment with Walter Keys.” The man studied her for a moment then glanced at his clipboard. “You don’t remember me, do you?” he asked as he flipped through the pages. “Excuse me?” “I’m Paul Buchanan. I was a few years behind you in school.” Jacqueline searched her memory, but she couldn’t recall this name or face.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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