Sometimes a whole morning would pass without Spurlock uttering a word beyond the request for a drink of water. ” Michelle sat in a yogi’s posture on the cold plywood, her eyes closed as if meditating. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. ” “Well”—her breath failed her for a moment. He was ready to seed his legacy, and you were a pawn to be moved out of the way.
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