His build was medium, he would never 5 tower over his peers, yet his shoulders were broadening, betrayed by an undeveloped set of pectoral muscles underneath his button-down shirt that she could tell frustrated him. Given time and the right environment, and he would outgrow these defects. He sat with folded arms and knitted brows, thinking intently. She ducked behind a pile of unused drywall. "He had been many years in this country before his assassination took place. ‘I am not a murderer.
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