Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. The ball passed over his head, and lodged in the ceiling. The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. The winters were bitter here, they could have just as easily been frozen off. “We’re here to take your foster daughter down to the station to ask her a few questions sir. ’ Melusine stifled a giggle. She rose from her chair, and began walking up and down the room restlessly.
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