The Storm VII. “Can you spare me a moment?” he asked. Perhaps it had been pick-pocketed or jostled from her dress in a hunt. “Then why go out with him, Michelle? Why belabor yourself?” Lucy questioned. Yet she could not bring herself to hate the girl, or even Gianfrancesco, the one who would have sent her to her death more than once. He could not possibly lunge in the confined space, and so had nothing to do but back himself into the chapel as fast as he could. Of all the amazing coincidences.
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