. ‘You knew her well, Miss Mary?’ Mrs Ibstock turned at the window. Teenagers buzzed about her newly discovered talent for the violin in the same sentences as they gossiped about her torrid police scandal and a lost mother who remained in the deep shadows of murder mystery. Michelle seemed so innocent and sweet. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. At once.
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