" "Better she die by her own hand, than by that monster's," cried Jack, brandishing the bar. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. " And he tossed it carelessly into the bottom of the boat. They were a dull grey, but the dark frizzed hair that framed her face was attractive. The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink.
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