“Annabel?” he exclaimed. You’re a good friend. In mid-bite, she heard a car door slam that was recognizable. She watched for five minutes until he completely disappeared over Pine Crest, past the yellow fire hydrant and the dented stop sign. He was braver than her husband, who paced and cowered in the corners of the once-sunny Palazzo. This was no light conquest; nor was it a government easily maintained.
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