“Really,” she said. Her thin fingers were armed with nails as long as the talons of a bird. I will remember them, Sebastian, along with my mother and father, and all the others I came to love and lose. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. “I mean to,” she replied. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. The future? He dared not speculate upon that.
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