I haven't touched the other. Part 8 “Why should I ever come back?” she said to herself, as she went down the staircase. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. Lucy could see the anger in her silhouette, the punishments and the grounding being formulated for the now dead daughter.
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