He could not promise that she would ever appear again in that house. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. “Thanks, so do you. The path he had selected conducted him to his mother's humble dwelling. Then to the Dean's Head, in St. . “Sure, are you sure you’re okay?” He exited off the highway onto a quiet road and pulled over. Her formerly brown hair was dyed a white shade of blonde.
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