Now I have done something for which you might be pardoned if you did kill me. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. ” He waved the gun at Lucy who stepped back. .
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