“What is the good of pretending?” she said. They had heard nothing, seen nothing. Sara Darnell was a sprightly, svelte twenty-five year old who was known for serving detentions at meter maid frequency, if only to be taken marginally more seriously by the predominantly male Lincoln High Science Department. He installed Anna in a comfortable easy chair, and placed his own between her and the door. She quickly strangled him with the piano wire as he looked at her, his lips open as if to scream, but his larynx had been intentionally sliced. Her eyes flashed and she withdrew the dagger, pulling away from him.
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