She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. He was always anticipating, stepping into the future, torturing himself with non-existent troubles. She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly. \"What's your number?\" Michelle asked Lucy. So long as she stood beside him, the Hand would not prevail. As they entered the room beyond, a fierce growl was heard.
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