Are you prepared to do it?” Her hands clenched. It began to rain, a cold sweat of precipitation that was more sickly than refreshing. It was only a matter of time. ” Lucy answered, disturbed at how rehearsed the apology sounded. ‘I have first some affairs to finish. ” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had.
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