The lamb was roasted to perfection, but it tasted like sawdust in his mouth. He turned an apologetic gaze to his mother as he threw his napkin on his parents’ table.“I’m afraid I have no appetite.”“Son, you mustn’t take Richard’s death so hard,” his mother said, reaching out to give his arm a sympathetic pat. “He wouldn’t want you to grieve so.”“Your mother is right,” Mark’s father replied.“I know,” Mark said. “I know that very well. That’s why I’m going to go to Philadelphia.”His mother gasped and put her hand to her throat. “What? You’re going to Philadelphia? Surely you cannot mean it. Look how dangerous it was for Richard!”“That’s exactly why I have to go,” Mark said, shaking his head. “Someone has to be willing to fight for what’s right. Richard was doing an honorable service. In turn I will do the honorable thing for him. I will see his killer brought to justice.”“Son, this is hardly an appropriate time or place for such a conversation,”
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