I understand. ‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain. . "Good Lord!—cannibals?" "Aye. Michelle was on her like a fly, asking her questions about her past foster homes she did her best to avoid, pretending to be swamped every night with sudden reams of homework and unable to be reached by phone. She breathed deeply of the starch of his shirt.
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