The rogue took everything we had. Here was the place behind the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy’s persecutions, and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. Only I am not an acquaintance at all. The babies that the woman—your wife—refused to stop creating.
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