She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. ” Lucy said. Sheppard had been interred. What in the world was the wench up to now? For it must be she. It could only mean one thing—that her foster daughter was both a whore and a murderer! When Sheila confronted her about it, it was five in the morning. ” John traced his finger over the meeting point of her breast and her ribcage as they lay naked on his unmade bed.
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