‘But you said—’ Gerald tutted. Rhea went down, screeching and clawing at the air for the sword, which clanked heavily on the ground. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. The freezing water lapped around her ankles as she ran along its edge, marveling at the thousands of tiny white spiral shells the tide had brought in. ’ He reddened a little, and shuffled his feet. But indeed that is not at all a good description of her attitude. “Please come home.
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