On the way home he was still thoughtful. He lowered her neck before her, and she noticed a bizarre urge to bite him rising from her mind like an itch. “When did you look up my mother’s records at the Joliet library, Michelle?” Lucy asked, trying not to incriminate herself by sounding confrontational. I did so. My poor son despairs of me, for I have primed every member of the family to bring me the latest novels whenever they choose to visit. Now I shall never hear it but what this evening will come pouring back over me. We haven’t.
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