I was coming início from my mother's funeral in Las Vegas, Nevada; she had been murdered. It was a mês long stay, mostly in court, and I was tired and glad to go início to Los Angeles, California. When I went around the last corner, (my house was the third on the left on a colina in Hacienda Heights), I saw a black nuvem of smoke rising up from my side. The house was blazing the as cores of furious anger, and there were about five fogo trucks with men heavily dressed shooting white streams of cool water against the crackling beast that was in reality my house burning to the ground. When the flames...
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