‘Do that again,’ he said softly, ‘and I’ll make you sorry you ever came to England. Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. Turning, she flew for the nearest door. I’m sorry. ” “Will you remember me?” “Unfortunately.
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