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“The doctor has asked me to give them my reasons—for shooting myself. She could feel Michelle’s nervousness leaching into her spine. She broke this promise when she told me that my mother was this Mary, and not Suzanne Valade at all. The visitor was the hotel manager, who respectfully announced that the doctor was ready for her. John sat pensively in the back of his best friend's mother's minivan, piloted by his best friend Mark. No Cantonese was in those days permitted to cross to the Sha-mien after sunset without a license. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. ” Her eyes glinted, macabre.
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