“I couldn’t help it. Stanley regarded his neighbor’s clean-shaven face almost warily. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders. ” She had not seen or heard from a single one of them since. .
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