You were dying and your baby along with you. "As I said before, I have little reliance upon professions of gratitude. Oh, God!” Rhea sniffed the air through two gaping nostrils that had eroded through her onion skin flesh. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. Stanley regarded his neighbor’s clean-shaven face almost warily. She was still fully dressed; so all she had to do was to pause before the mirror and give her hair a few pats.
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