She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. ’ He gave the gaping Pottiswick a shove, passing him on to his junior, who was waiting patiently by the kitchen door. The small bed’s hospital corners had been put into disarray by Michelle’s crying fit. You are—or rather you were——” he corrected himself with an unpleasant little laugh, “Miss Pellissier, eh?” A little sensation followed upon his words. Can I please go home now?” “Honey, I promise you can go soon, but you have to fill out some paperwork before you go. Had it not been for the Plague, she might have had her own babies.
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