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Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. ‘Is he meeting you here then, my dear?’ ‘He had better,’ said Lucilla. Or run me through. She knew his appetite from many a homemade dinner and knew also that he had taken Bitch Vorsack’s comments to heart. Lucy paced outside of the stone bricked room until her mother began to scream. Wood, with a look meant to reduce her supposed rival to the dust. “So, how’d it go?” Lucy sighed.
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