“My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. Breakfast was laid for one, a dish of fruit and a shining coffee equipage. I hoped for a family like the Becks and I waded through the system until I got them, so maybe life isn’t so damn hopeless after all. You are welcome to proclaim yourself ‘Alcide’ if you will.
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