Chapter Twenty-FourWhen I awoke the next morning it felt as if the night before hadn't happened. After my father was killed and my mother went to prison, I never really had my own place. I hadn't parked anywhere until now. Suddenly, I felt like a bona fide citizen rather than a guest waiting for his visa to expire. I lay prostrate in bed this Sunday morning, sounds of the new day crept into the room.
I shuffled into The Gazette about ten a.m. to prepare Monday's edition but to take a fresh look at the thing causing all the fuss—something that pitted decent citizens against each other.
As I drove in, I noticed that each day the presence of the Jersey Jokers became more visible. Peace symbols began appearing all over town; spray-painted on blank walls and the tarmac of public parking spots
