“She is likely somewhere on the road or perhaps in town, finding victims. ” She said as she rested her head against his chest, eyes unfocused on the fading sky. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. “I do. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light.
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