# She Was Buried Beneath the Snow. He Was Buried Beneath the Truth.

and had been sleeping beneath a highway overpass.

“We don’t have room,” a new volunteer whispered to me.

I looked down the crowded hallway.

People slept on cots, benches, and padded mats.

Dogs curled beneath blankets.

The old parrot muttered something rude from the office.

“We have a floor,” I said.

“That counts as room.”

Walter stood near the entrance, ready continue reading …