Oh, why did the fire always have to die out in the middle of the night just when it was needed most?
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love you.
Until spring. until spring.
right,
His.
Chapter Twenty
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hers
No.
would.
Oh my God! The river!
Please God, not yet. . .
snap. snap
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willingly
wanted
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Need.
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sense of impending disaster swelled. She was tense, edgy. The burden of holding back her thoughts was killing her.
After washing his hands he sat down at the little table and; put the carefully folded napkin in his lap. He no longer even thought about it; the action was as natural as breathing. ,
A knot twisted his throat as he stared at the bright yellow flowers. How much longer before he was eating off a dirty, ยท scarred wooden table again-without a napkin, without a tablecloth, without even utensils?