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” Lucy considered the irony that Michelle had spent seventeen years waiting to escape the suburban existence she had always longed to live. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. ‘We don’t know who she is. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image.
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