’ The core of hurt rose up, tearing at her insides. Before the Monroes I was placed with a single woman, Leslie Cavendish. Lucy grabbed its handle, her broken bones mending inside her causing her to wince in pain. You must wait till supper's over. She appeared not to have realised the implications of her outburst, but clung a little to Gerald’s hands which had taken hers in a comforting clasp. She was reasonably certain why. Practically. She can't last long.
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