CORY HATED MARCH. It wasn’t winter any longer, but it sure wasn’t spring. On the way to the showgrounds, she studied the fields through the early morning mist, trying to detect that luminescent green in the grass that signaled the return of warmer weather. The truck cab was cold, since Jack would never turn on the heat. Cory sat huddled in the middle next to Vee, who was studying the directions on the back of the show’s prize list.
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