Sheppard raised her eyes, and fixed them upon her interrogator. Some days, his eyes were green. ‘I’ve eyes in my head, haven’t I?’ He grunted. She quickly strangled him with the piano wire as he looked at her, his lips open as if to scream, but his larynx had been intentionally sliced. Father and daughter regarded each other warily, each more than a little insecure with the other. Saturday mornings at the Beck house were routine, coffee, newspaper, bagels, and Looney Toons in no particular order. How old are you?” She asked.
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