A black-garbed figure crept forward, noiselessly, towards Gosse’s back. “No, those are my brother’s dog tags. “Don’t be childish, Annabel. With the extra seventy-five pounds she had put after birthing her final son, Steven, her knees weren’t in good shape to be running up and down stairs all day. Michelle looked like she was about to throw up herself. Even he was not oblivious to it, and after about two minutes of awkward French kissing, he pulled away. .
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