Her heavy pistol came up again, although she did not rise. For the past four weeks mirrors had been her delight, a new toy. She painted on the Root Beer Lip Smackers lip gloss that Shari had bought her last Christmas and rouged her cheeks as she had long ago as she once had for Sebastian. Come down, I say, instantly, or I'll make you. “It was a bad day for me,” he said, speaking slowly and painfully.
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