The land about these walls is a common graveyard. A boy no older than she, Gianfrancesco’s cousin, whispered what he would like to do to her when she stole into the hallways near the women’s chambers to fix herself. She had Cathy’s predisposition to overweight and her hips were solid and thick under her jeans. “Glaciers?” she said. His employer retreated into the further apartment, leaving the door ajar. She turned a resolute face southward.
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