272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Anna held out her hand, and he paused. ” She slipped it on her finger, and added, in a voice she tried to make matter-of-fact: “It was given to me last week. “I shot him. "I can't," answered Blueskin. Austin. She had flung away from her father’s support with the finest assumption of personal independence.
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