Spurlock knew exactly what he was doing, however: speculative mischief, to see how she would act. Her mind jumped with questions as fear raced through her and hardened into a bid for retaliation. Lucy sprinted to one side to avoid the crash and grabbed at Rhea’s solitary patch of yellow hair, which ripped out loosely in one decayed piece like strands of rotten corn silk. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. " Austin readily complied with her request.
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