He walked down Boylston Street, and at their passing his heart pounded. His desire for a woman was widespread. Nothing is more gratifying than encount...ring a beautiful woman, for all women in their own right are beautiful creatures, and these women seemed to be looking at him, talking to him without words, without expression, only walking casually, head straight, so quiet, dazzling, and mesmerizing. Could they have been looking at Mustafa? Mustafa thought so.He pounded the pavement, his heart. He knew that committing suicide was the coward's way out. His cherished son, Carl, might have understood, but would surely have much preferred he kept on.Brad could hear his wife, Emily, in the living room, sobbing. Jared, his younger son, was in his room doing God knows what. Jared spent too much time playing with his computer games and watching TV and movies, in Brad's opinion.They had buried Carl three months earlier, in May. Carl was twenty years old when he died. He had suffered through a. More

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