It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. She frowned and gripped her hands about her knees very tightly. The winters were bitter here, they could have just as easily been frozen off. I’ll have to think of something else. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. " "It is," replied Jack.
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