As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. Lucy did not move, but instead stared straight forward, her eyes focused on the desk where the presiding teacher on duty was supposed to be. The infant’s body, now missing its pulverized head, was still twitching among the blood-soaked ruins of corpses. \"Just fine, John. The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom. She came very near that night to resolving that she would return to her home next morning.
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