ToC After running to some distance down Seacoal Lane, Jack stopped to give a last look at the vehicle which was bearing away the remains of his beloved and illfated mother. He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin. “I can get you,” Mr. I hate what I have to do to survive. By a miracle, he averted its path, his hold on the girl’s mouth shifting fast to grasp her wrist.
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