” She looked down at the flowers, still in shock, and gently laid them over her arm like a Miss America candidate practicing a crowning ceremony at a pajama party. It could only mean one thing—that her foster daughter was both a whore and a murderer! When Sheila confronted her about it, it was five in the morning. One would think that you enjoyed crawling away out of your world into hiding, with a very foolish wicked wife. "So, wanton, I have found you!" "Wanton! Why, you infernal liar!" cried Spurlock, striking at the arm.
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