‘I want a word with you, my lad. Spurlock mused over the previous night. It was nothing like the big church wedding she wanted, but nothing could shame her greater than to have a child out of wedlock. ’ Fury rippled again. Only her babe died. I have been insulted, and cursed at, and threatened with both pistol and dagger. She thought she had hidden well from him. Nice goings on. Senior year started with a whimper. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. “I am under police surveillance,” she said.
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