No matter where, how, or to whom I turned, the storyseemed to turn as well. NeitherdidI. And, all things considered, that's her right. What things? Why put yourself through more shit? she asked him, her fingersclosing over one side of the paper as his fingers closed over theother.
I know, Lynley said gloomily. He didn't still love the woman, she assured herself. He folded it into a miniature fan and placed it at the base of aphotograph of his daughter. They began to talk.
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