“The beautiful young woman that I had met on Friday now looked years older, aged by her story. Yet she had an eerie calmness of having faced it, told it and, once again, survived it. Suddenly, she began sobbing. When she finally looked up, she said, “I haven’t talked about my life with Paul, my son, my reconciliation with God.” She paused, then added, “And with my mother.” “We have enough for a book,” I said softly. “Editors loved sequels. If you are willing to go through this again?” ... She looked relieved. She was late for her plane and quickly gathered herself together. I walked her over to Lexington Avenue and hailed a cab which swerved to a screeching halt beside us. Sherry hugged me. Then she said the words that I had heard several times before. Words that I had dismissed when said by celebrities with the final say and a phalanx of managers, agents and lawyers to protect them.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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