Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. The bleach had ruined it, with yellow-orange streaks invading the frizzy white that cascaded in wavy tendrils coated with greasy hairspray. ‘Jacques, are you dead? Jacques, do you hear me?’ Melusine put her cheek to his lips, and felt the faint warmth of his breath.
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