He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him. He had, for the most part, been correct. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. “When did you look up my mother’s records at the Joliet library, Michelle?” Lucy asked, trying not to incriminate herself by sounding confrontational. The girl only smiled at him serenely, but she laid her hand for a moment quietly upon his. She was shocked.
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