The city presented a terrible picture of devastation. Lucy gestured to Michelle to follow her downstairs. “Sheila and Mark McCloskey?” Michelle asked. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. ” They were lingering over their dessert. Let's have a look at the kinchen that ought to have been throttled," added he, snatching the child from Wood. “How so?” “I should have shared these things with you earlier, my sweet heart.
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