At the bottom of the trunk was a large manila envelope, unmarked. Melusine sighed with relief at being alone at last and free to resume her search among the portraits. “I go to private school right now. Fritz sang for her sometimes, for Fritz could sing even before he was able to form words. “I’ll run, too,” she volunteered. He was afraid if he stayed that he would make a fool of himself. It isn't for their sakes, it's for your own.
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