” 174 < 21 > THANKSGIVING She padded softly up the old stairs, exhausted and elated. Michelle had warned her of the girl, calling her “Bitchster”. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. "That would be certain destruction. The baby crawled towards them, seeking their blood. " At this juncture, two women, very smartly attired in silk hoods and cloaks, appeared at the door of the Lodge. Anna leaned forward, watching the people in the streets. Blood dripped down one side of her forehead.
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