” 174 < 21 > THANKSGIVING She padded softly up the old stairs, exhausted and elated. Kneebone he's not here. She examined Michelle’s pale face. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. You ought to know that.
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