The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. "Speak English?" boomed the voice. As concertmaster, it was Lucy’s duty to seat the orchestra as well as tune them. She felt her heartbeat accelerate until it was pounding her chest. You may have to carry them further and longer than you think. All men are bloody fucking hypocrites. Or mad, just as the captain had said so many times.
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