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“Over the years and throughout the decades of his adult life, Pap Hardy had made such a number of enemies that the local watering hole had kept a tally, crossing off each name as they moved, died, or inexplicably disappeared from the town in demonstration of Pap’s endurance and will to outlive and outstay any and all who’d opposed him. A self-will strung with desiccated cat gut. An iron mind riveted to justice. A heart enlarged by duty. e last of his kind.”
― Jonathan Epps, A Pale Song