My last foster father in Alabama before the Becks was a heavy drug abuser. She had very few clear memories before a particular day in the library, when they had finished one of her first reading lessons. She stumbled through a thorny copse, her slippers sliding on patches of sand that gave way to rock. He was beautiful and perfect, his blue eyes smiling at her. ToC The day appointed for the execution was now close at hand, and the prisoner, who seemed to have abandoned all hopes of escape, turned his thoughts entirely from worldly considerations.
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