” Ennison’s voice shook a little. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it. “About two years ago. God, we suck. “When did you get home last night, Lucy?” Cathy interrogated through a yawn. The Becks were the best foster family that she had ever had. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass.
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