Winnie knew exactly where she was. Oren was taking her through Inglewood, west toward the airport. Manchester Avenue was six lanes wide and flat, a straight line through the traditionally black neighborhood of older homes, small shops and many churches. A lot of the stores were boarded up and out...
I leapt out from behind the rock so angry I didn’t even think to be frightened of the crows or the slobbers or her. “What have you done to my dad? What are you doing to these people?” “They’re not people,” she said. “You know that.” She was perfectly calm, her voice as soft and low and controlled...