Ann Veronica found herself in a little stirring crowd of excited women, whispering and tittering and speaking in undertones. When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. She was carefree. These sham ideals and advanced notions. I did not lay any traps for her. “Wow.
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