’ ‘Will you indeed? Truly?’ His smile held so much tenderness, she was tempted to surrender at once. “I could not have stayed in Paris and waited for news. “Who the hell are you, Lucy?” “Promise me you will never tell anyone. When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. You were accused of having been seen with the latter.
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