A smile trembled at the corners of her mouth as she recalled Gerald’s ridiculous upbraiding of his own reflection in the mirror. He took his seat at the table, but leaned forward to address her. The detective reckoned that his quarry would be up in ten days more. Her pat answer to all inquiries was, “I let my sister Shari make me over,” while she kept from staring at her own reflection in the shiny shoes past her bare knees. Then Sheila noticed the stains.
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