Om denne bog

Dallas was sweating through its collar, and so was the truth.

The heat sat heavy over the city like a guilty conscience—thick, unmoving, and stinking of something rotten beneath the perfume. It was the kind of summer where husbands forgot their vows, politicians forgot their promises, and nobody seemed to know where their wallet had gone.

Lately, it wasn't everybody cheating—just a certain age group. Folks fifty and up were acting like rules were optional.

And no one knew why.

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