She held out the foil. Anna nodded as she briskly crossed the pavement. The campaign’s a success. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. There was no mistaking his intentions this time. White was scattered across the long stretches of pine trees and corn fields. An audible crack sounded in the kitchen and Mark slumped backwards, unconscious. Her birthday was four months away, and that, at its extremist point, might give her another five pounds. You had better let me go again.
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