Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. Another picture slid across her vision. It had been a big event for teens across town. She had killed him. ” “You shall not need either,” Brendon said grimly.
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