“Why do you kill me?” Michelle asked. Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. It was Missy and Michelle in her grandmother's old Buick. When she occupied, it, it was neatness itself; the little porch was overrun with creepers—the garden trim and exquisitely kept. I don't have a phone in my room.
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