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A few more minutes, and she was safe. “I wrote it for you. Something seemed to dredge up from the recesses of her memory and she brightened. With the extra seventy-five pounds she had put after birthing her final son, Steven, her knees weren’t in good shape to be running up and down stairs all day. Women and men had always flocked to him, covetous of his knowledge, his riches, and if all else failed, his carnal expertise. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. “Mary Lucia. Perhaps that was the reason why she enjoyed preparing suppers at the Becks. It was hot and dry. Dump popped his head into the cage. I hate myself!” She collapsed to the floor, sobbing.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 10-06-2024 11:28:02
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