‘I thought as how it couldn’t do no harm, and as it turns out, it done me a bit of good. In truth, Sheila never saw Lucy murder anyone at all, she only saw the blood. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. Sebastian traveled at seventy, eighty, then one-hundred down the freeway. “I wish this hadn’t turned up to-day of all days.
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