Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. I wonder if some of them did—and it didn’t get reported. ’ ‘You won’t go to the general then?’ ‘There is no need. The job is easy. She saw Lucy darkening her doorstep and stood from the recliner.
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