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She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. “Sir John,” her aunt repeated, with thin emphasis, “is coming to see your sister. Now I require it, only that I may stop this pig from ruining all.
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