’ ‘Comment? How will it serve you to kill me?’ ‘I do not need to kill you. ” 243 She felt a mixture of embarrassment, humiliation, and pride well up in her cheeks, flushing them. To be exact, it was just sixteen hours and twenty minutes. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. " "What can be done for him?" cried Thames. 130 “You look fantastic!” He said, sitting down next to her on the sectional sofa, his black tee shirt and blue jeans in stark contrast to her cream colored princess gown. There was some one there. There was—a service.
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