Then the dagger’s point came in a whirling arc towards his face. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. We were worried. Michelle was on her like a fly, asking her questions about her past foster homes she did her best to avoid, pretending to be swamped every night with sudden reams of homework and unable to be reached by phone. Sheppard, raising herself, and looking at him as if her life depended upon the answer. ” She appraised him.
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