He waved to her. His blood would be sweet with it. ‘Have you any more pretty toys like that knife about you?’ ‘The girl’s a regular arsenal,’ Hilary snapped, giving up into his senior’s hand the nasty little weapon he had snatched. He had been back for two weeks during some pleasant weather in July. He picked her up outside her last period Ceramics class. Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles.
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