\"Sorry. They thought that she was her own mother. There he stands. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. Brendon and I returned from the ‘Unusual,’ and found him lying in my room shot through the lungs. There was now no honest way of warning Taber that the net had been drawn. I—I am a lovesick idiot, and not accountable for my actions.
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