I have a weapon—a knife—and if you attempt to open the door, will plunge it to my heart. " Ideas are never born; they are suggested; they are planted seeds. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. The flowers and turf, a wild strawberry, a rare butterfly, and suchlike little intimate things had become more interesting than mountains. “It is very, very difficult,” she continued, looking steadfastly at the ground. Who is it?” “Your brother Mike!” Michelle chirruped, sounding uncannily like her mother Diane.
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