I was one of the few. It was the last thing she felt like drinking. I found it on the beach, just sitting there nestled inside a piece of driftwood. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. They were actually pissed at me that I quote broke up with you unquote. "Take it," cried Wood, holding the infant towards her; "take it, and fly.
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