Immediately she had spoken of the loose button he knew that henceforth he must show no concern over the disposition of that coat. He could lose himself for hours at a time. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. “I was sick of the make-believe. Yet she could not bring herself to hate the girl, or even Gianfrancesco, the one who would have sent her to her death more than once.
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