Grace, confidence, the power of movement even, seemed gone from her. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. \"Thanks for lending me the clothes. A deep roar followed this order, and several missiles were launched at the vehicle, which was driven off at a furious pace. He took her fingers and lifted his eyes to hers. CHAPTER XIII.
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