” She said as she rested her head against his chest, eyes unfocused on the fading sky. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. Charcoal. Reconnoitring them through a small grated loophole, he refused to open the door till they had explained their business. “Oh, you know,” she said. “I must read him when I come out. This is no place for me. That is, if Spurlock had been throwing money about, which was more than likely. “See that man?” Sebastian would tap her on the shoulder on a crowded alleyway and say, “See how he lingers too long when he touches that little child? The glow in his eyes? That is lustful intent, my dear.
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