She gaped at its keep, at least ten feet tall, a frightening gray coffin turned upright. It mattered not whether she flunked the year as she would soon be gone. The day was so darkly overcast that she had to turn on the small white porcelain lamp that sat upon the makeup crowded vanity. Peste, but everything had become difficult. To Breanna for believing in this project at every step. “It’s either now or never,” said Ann Veronica, again ascending this stile. Then her eyes flashed.
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