He smiled inwardly. “When did you look up my mother’s records at the Joliet library, Michelle?” Lucy asked, trying not to incriminate herself by sounding confrontational. “You are very stupid, Anna,” she said. He dug about in his mind for a term to fit her, and he came upon the word new. “Sebastianus? Where did my husband go?” He smiled at her gently, patronizingly, as he prevented her from movement or escape.
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