“Pigs!” Kris screamed when she saw a cop whack a man. She wanted to throw herself into the chaos. She wanted to burn up in it.
One block away, hiding behind a garbage can cover used as a shield, a young Indian woman lobbed concrete chunks she’d gathered from a construction site at the police, her large, brown eyes visible above the rag tied over her nose and mouth. If she had known about the girls, one block west of her, or if the girls had known of her, the looming disaster may have been prevented. Instead, each fought as she could, not knowing, forty-five strides separated them from being reunited after she’d left the girls standing by the barn.
However, since the spirits have their ways, and fate has yet to be cheated, the girls and young woman missed one another in the amount of time
