\"I'll have to call and tell Cathy. "Oh, God! that I might die too," cried Jack, falling on his knees beside her. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. She met his eyes for a moment, and could not interpret their expression. “She thinks that Missy is trying to turn me into a punk or a Goth. I did not know what God had in mind then.
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