Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor. There was no marriage, and I hated, oh, how I hated the man. ” “Were you sexually abused? Was it a miscarriage?” “No. " At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. To hand the key back in silence was like offering a lie.
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