“His father, Sam, dressed in a bright orange prison garb, legs in shackles, walked slowly toward him. Sam was mid-forties, a man of great wealth and power, and was of Irish and Spanish descent. Prison was the last place he would have ever imagined himself to be. “Glad you could make it,” he said in his thick brogue. He was proud of his heritage but not so much of his accent. His wife had always compared his accent to that of Ricky Ricardo. “Of course, I figure...d I’d come once more before I went out of town again,” Adrian said, staring at his dad on the other side of the glass. He held the phone tightly in his grip. His father looked a lot calmer than he had on other visits. “Where are you heading?” Sam asked, concerned he wasn’t keeping up on the family business. “Oh, just to see a friend,”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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