He sat in his darkened office staring at the container sitting on the desk and honestly couldn’t remember when he last had a meal that wasn’t packaged in styrofoam or plastic. His coffee was cold, which made it taste even more like something drained from his old Toyota.
Joseph Sanders was a very unhappy man.
The docs gave him their professional guess and it only made things worse. They doubted the bag of shit in the hospital would ever wake up, so he’d never be able to wring answers out of O’Connor and as bad as that was, Sanders hated it even more knowing if he could get them, they wouldn’t change what really mattered. Janice Sanders was five years dead and O’Connor could never pay him a high enough price for being responsible for his daughter's death.
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Official Six Sunday website here.