‘Will that be all, ma’am?’ ‘Yes, yes. Lucy sighed, finding it odd to switch roles as she had over the past weeks. . When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. Even in her own sorry skin-and-bones state of wraithlike pallor and gray under eye circles she was drawing unwanted attention from would-be admirers. As a matter of fact, I had never spoken to him before in my life.
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