Then he would turn his face to her, and she would have to think of herself in his eyes. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. “It’s my fault. ‘Knew you had the lad with you, and thought you were merely delayed. Michelle looked at Lucy's feet, still in the ugly brown loafers she had worn since last year. The little grating in the door, the sense of constant inspection, worried her. You may not know it, but it's easier to find a guy that's gone far than it is when he lays dogo in little old New York.
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