They took their places at a distant table. Let us be friends—as near and close as friends can be. I fight. ‘I am not a murderer. There were probably others buried around the 13 house, she had seen a suspicious working refrigerator in the back of the garage mess, but she wasn’t about to check it out. She never touched the manuscript with pencil, but jotted down her notes on slips of paper and left them where he might easily find them. . Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her.
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