She asked the inevitable question, the one she knew Michelle was waiting to field like a quarterback anticipating the pass. Her father read a draft prospectus warily, and her aunt dropped fragments of her projects for managing while the cook had a holiday. Larry Beck did his best to the flares of her temper from rising. Melusine tilted her head to catch sight of her neck, and froze, staring at the image. Why do you look so sad?” She opened her eyes wider and stifled her emotions.
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