She pulled his shirt from its tucked belted state and snaked her hands around his waist. Her thoughts were busy with the possibilities of this break in her journey. Of course there are, millions of them. Proof? There is someone who might be willing to help. Rank ingratitude, I call it. “What have I done, Miss Pellissier?” he pleaded. He looked just as Julian had the night she had first met him outside the Joliet Laundromat. Nothing else weighs against it.
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