"Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. “You know that I have always hated this!” She 264 looked down at Michelle’s pitifully bloody head, her body barely hanging on to its breath. Most of the time, he was hunting and he returned at night. The area was sparsely populated. She, having all the confidence in the world, ripped off an end and drew out the contents—a letter and a check.
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