Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. “Here, dis is for you. Lucy did not move, but instead stared straight forward, her eyes focused on the desk where the presiding teacher on duty was supposed to be. 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. “Very funny. ’ ‘That is what you thought of me. It is not the woman who speaks there.
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