The baby crawled towards them, seeking their blood. White, who held out her hand and beamed a welcome upon him. “This is all madness,” she declared wearily. She tolerated spitballs in her curly hair and had to buy a new backpack when hers was stolen. Gerald watched her vanish into the darkness, unusually incensed. “But what are you going to do?” asked Hetty. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. She was beautiful once, Lucia.
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