Very doubtful. He also had Janine’s daughter, Traci, who he just couldn’t leave alone after she reached puberty, when she grew a small set of underdeveloped breasts. “There isn’t any way you could be worse than John. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light. The way it had happened was stupid, absurd. . ‘I am fascinated. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. Wood rushed instantly to meet them.
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