Sheppard, fervently. Lucy propped Michelle against a thick, knobby tree stump. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. She leaned back in the cab with half-closed eyes. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. It’s true.
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