She passed him silently as she dropped Michelle’s dried corpse into the open clay pit awkwardly, like a discarded doll. “I looked for you on the way home from The Big Apple, where were you?” Lucy smiled. After a while, he raised his eyes; and, if their glance could have been witnessed at the moment, it could not have been easily forgotten. Then she would write and tell her father what she had done, and put their relationship on a new footing.
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