Lucy arranged her hair as Michelle had taught her instead of combing it out. It was a tale of battle, murder, and sudden death on the New York waterfront. Lucy felt her heart splinter in her breast. She could tell that they too would find their legs jutting awkwardly from the petite furniture. Before her stretched blank spaces, dotted with running people coming toward her, and below them railings and a statue. ‘What are you after this time, miss?’ asked Jack.
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