Lucy sprinted to one side to avoid the crash and grabbed at Rhea’s solitary patch of yellow hair, which ripped out loosely in one decayed piece like strands of rotten corn silk. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. She recognized him as the man who had blundered into the wrong room. Cathy had not even noticed that she herself was wet and trailing water everywhere. He laughed. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer the way I did—and do. But his lips were honourlocked.
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