She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. She had not chosen her life, but she was foggy on whether or not it was right to deny others the right to join her in her suffering. White. ‘Soldier of fortune. Particles of bullet were embedded in Rhea’s large arm as she swung across the stones in her donated legs. He had no use for Ann Veronica; he had never had a use for her since she had been too old to sit upon his knee.
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