As for this infatuation—it’s like some obsession, some magic thing laid upon you. ‘You don’t mind if I sit down?’ She considered him a moment, her head a little on one side. Always as black and bitter as gall. “When did you look up my mother’s records at the Joliet library, Michelle?” Lucy asked, trying not to incriminate herself by sounding confrontational. “Indeed, I must implore you to return. Wood had been my father, as well as yours. Thames did not attempt to offer him any consolation, for he was almost as much dejected.
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