"Hope to. Perhaps there were experiences she would never confide to any man. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. Michelle was on her like a fly, asking her questions about her past foster homes she did her best to avoid, pretending to be swamped every night with sudden reams of homework and unable to be reached by phone. ‘Cajolery? This is not your style.
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