She lifted her shoulders in an eloquent shrug. He refused to believe that Anna was not ‘Alcide. "Get ready your heaviest irons, Austin. There was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops. These petals! I’ve been wanting to cry all the evening, cry here on your shoulder for my petals. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Then she went into the office.
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