It felt oily inside her head. There were strings of Xavier Stancliff caught inside of her, holding on and spiderwebbing out as he plotted and waited and thought: this is all the bitch deserves. Swallowing, Sandra pushed herself off the bed. It was late and the room was dark. She could see the bundled lump of Jack beneath his own covers. He__ left the television on and the light flickered down the tiny hall. Shadows danced and Sandra shivered as she left the room.In another life, she would have told Danny and Jack about the man. Danny would have whispered, __t__ alright,_ and smoothed back her hair from her face and kissed her, lips dry and coarse on her forehead. Then he and Jack would__e left while she was sleeping. They would__e trampled the flowers and climbed into Xavier Stanliff__ window and when Sandra woke up there would have been one less man in the world.
In his mother__ honor, vowing not to commit the __ashionable stupidity_ of ignoring things he didn__ understand, Max performed a brave act of nonconformity by accepting the possibility that his dreams might be exactly what they seemed: real.
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In his mother__ honor, vowing not to commit the __ashionable stupidity_ of ignoring things he didn__ understand, Max performed a brave act of nonconformity by accepting the possibility that his dreams might be exactly what they seemed: real.
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