Strewn across the bed was a multitude of jumbled garments. His fatigue was tacitly understood within the family; it was a phenomenon which everyone acknowledged as related to the trades. She dared not look directly at him, her head obscured by a gray hoodie, she had the slumped appearance of an androgynous adolescent. Who could guarantee a safer existence outside Florence? That Sebastian seemed to have a weird immunity to the Pestilence was a trait that went unquestioned, unanswered. She saw Lucy darkening her doorstep and stood from the recliner.
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